Kindred Spirits
by MVJJBF
Summary: A short tale of two women, Anastasia Grey and Violet Rochester, meeting, connecting and discovering they have one big thing in common. Both are married to enigmatic, charismatic, powerful men with troubled souls they hold in their hearts and hands.
1. Chapter 1

Kindred Spirits

Chapter One

Shrieking with happiness running into the quaint sixth bedroom, 'omigod Christian, perfect for Mia and Ethan, the second for Kate and Elliot and the pretty south facing one for Grace and Carrick...oh and Gail is so happy with the three bedroomed cottage by the gates, she and Taylor were quick to claim the largest bedroom, Sawyer even smiled when he saw his', I giggle, 'but no smile from Prescott, expression I've drawn the shortest straw'.

Swept into his arms, laughter will not be contained, my Christian, my husband, my wonderful man, 'so security and Gail could have a private dwelling was one of the main reasons I bought this property', his eyes sparkle playfully, 'and Mrs Grey', eyes sparkle more, 'I see you're planning a big family vacation', full soft lips gently peck the tip of my nose.

Cheeks flushed with excitement, 'yes...wouldn't sometime in August or July next year be fantastic...sunny afternoons in the gazebo by the pond sipping Pimms...strawberries and cream...thank you Christian, thank you, the best surprise'.

'English summers', he grins, 'raincoats and umbrellas', lips kiss my cupid's bow then his mouth presses hungrily against mine, reciprocating as hungrily abruptly he stops inclines his head, I mirror and hear the rumble of heavy vehicles on gravel outside. Hand caught by his, he turns, strides from the room onto the spacious landing, along it then bounds down the grand staircase at speed.

'Slow down Christian', I giggle, 'what's going on'.

'Ana baby sleeping on a polished timber floor isn't appealing, four poster beds, furniture, transport, second surprise for you and your Manor house', he chuckles, he's like a kid in a candy shop who just got their allowance.

Reaching the large elegant entrance hall he bounds to the ornate front door, I'm breathless keeping up with him, he opens it, wide eyed I stare at three trucks parked along the gravel drive, men in pale grey overalls are leaping from them, a new English registered R8 and Mercedes saloon are being delivered by very happy looking car sales dealers.

'Mr Grey', I grin from ear to ear, 'as ever you know how to sweep a woman off their feet'.

'Only for you Mrs Grey', he pecks my check then nods to Taylor to whip the army of delivery people into shape.

Arms wrapped around each other leisurely we stroll to the higher level west lawn and gaze at the tranquil picturesque English countryside. Hedged green fields, some with iron others with wooden gates are dotted with grazing cows and horses, bubbling brooks intersect at various points, squinting I make out a farmer in a tractor ploughing a field and sigh dreamily.

Eyes drift to across the valley and along a dense forest, where it ends a partial view of a stately home, parkland, manicured gardens and lake are visible, 'oh Christian we're neighbor's of Pemberley we should call on Mr Darcy, take tea, he is welcome at Longbourn if he wishes', I joke and burst into giggles.

Again swept into his arms, 'so good to see you this happy Ana baby', ardently he kisses, feverishly I respond with desire, love and passion, 'once the first bed's put in place we're christening it', he moans into my mouth, breaks the kiss and grins.

'Oh yes, yes', I grin, glance across the valley, 'Christian do you know who owns that home, you've not told me anything about Hillingham', he glances, eyes go back to mine.

'Public record list it as home to the Earl and Countess of Hillingham', he informs disinterested, takes my hand and leads me back to the large but slightly rundown conservatory of our very own Manor, 'a lot could be done with this, underfloor heating and an automated watering system, grow oranges, tomatoes, orchids', suddenly he laughs and points to one chimney, I laugh, a crow has built a nest on top and is glaring down at us as if we're imposters.

Seated happily in the smaller of two drawing rooms sipping a cup of Twinning's Morning tea Mrs Jones kindly made for me, Christian's in the modest sized study across the hall on his BlackBerry with Elliot discussing modifications that can be made in keeping with the heritage of Manor house, the study seems to be the only room where a solid cell signal can be achieved, 'how very eccentrically English', giggles burst.

Picking up my well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, I travel nowhere without it, I muse how appropriate it's now in England and resume reading from where Mr Bingley's sister is taunting Mr Darcy regarding his appreciation of Eliza Bennet's fine eyes, mind drifts to the stately home, 'Earl and Countess of Hillingham', I murmur.

Curiosity of what they are like grip, their history, what they do, 'sit all day drinking tea, taking turns round rooms and gardens', I laugh.

Curiosity won't leave, the page blurs, putting the book down on the new opulent coffee table I take from my tan Hermes birkin the second possession I always travel with, the exceptional high quality stationery set and Mont Blanc fountain pen Mia gifted me last Christmas.

Drafting a short cordial letter I rationalize its polite and proper to introduce ourselves to our nearest neighbors and decide to ask Prescott to hand deliver it as I'm unaware does Hillingham even have a post office.

* * *

Elbows on the counter, chins in hand, gazing out the window of the cosy tearoom, former storeroom of the shop, Ari's brilliant idea to boost profits during summer months, we sigh contently, twenty tourists have come and gone and were also content with the traditional afternoon teas.

I'm so proud of her making a go of the shop, tearoom and life, this coming Sunday, the eight of September will be hard for her, the anniversary of dickhead Tarquin not only absconding the night before their wedding but also with her very substantial fortune, 'I fear conclusion of the summer season means tourists shall be few and far between', she sighs again but despondently.

'Probably but I was thinking', I grin, Ari welcomes my suggestions and lets me help out a few hours a week, behind Ethan's back of course, we palm it off as me popping in for chats, 'why shut down the tearoom fully, Halloween's next month. Pumpkin carving lessons, for Christmas...emmmmm…..gingerbread men decorating...oh February, cupcake valentines and Easter...make your own Easter egg', imagination lepping, 'print flyers, hot tail it over to Brompton, hand them out, bung them in the Community Centre, library and pubs'.

Warmly she hugs me, 'Vi dearest I admire your enthusiasm fine ideas, whether cost effective', she cocks her head to onside, 'therefore tonight I shall be busy ascertaining feasibility now let us take tea...Michelle would you care for a cup'.

Michelle in the shop is stocking a shelf with bottles of locally produced Balsamic vinegar, 'I'd love one thanks Arianna', she smiles, Ari and I are great friends with her and hope Gabe will ask her to marry him, her life wasn't exactly roses and daffodils either. Hadley the father of her daughter Millicent and an ex- security employee of Ethan's was a nasty piece of work, but ended up where he belongs, prison, for sexual assault and battery of a prostitute, so Michelle like Ari is well on the road to happiness.

While Ari's rustling up a pot of tea, I give the nearest wrought table the once over with hygiene spray and a cloth, idly listen to them jabbering and muse on my happiness, _yeah...ninety eight percent I am_, frown, then wipe the already spotless table top with agitated gusto, _for Pete's sake Violet don't dwell on the two percent nobody's happy all the time_.

'Tea up', Ari lands a tray on the table at the far right, we sit around it, Michelle pours, 'how did the opening of Gabriel's show go three weeks ago', I ask, she knows Gabe and I were friends with benefits before I married Ethan. Once their dating took the turn to serious we had, "_the chat_", Michelle understood and in no way did it affect our friendship but out of respect I always refer to him as Gabriel in her presence.

'Great, most pieces sold on the night putting the gallery firmly on the map, one of the must see galleries in Naples', tone full of pride, 'to celebrate he brought Millie and I to his villa in Amalfi, Millie's eyes nearly popped out of head when she saw the pool, two days she practically lived in it'.

'Brill', I smile and stop myself from adding a third spoon of sugar to my tea, weaning, Ethan's suggestion, "_Violet vast quantities of sugar strains one's digestive system_", sighing inwardly wishing he was home but won't be until Friday.

'I am curious Michelle how did Millie take to Gabriel's housekeeper Senora Bianchi', Ari asks in mirth, an absolute witch, she hated me but not as much as Mrs Whitaker does.

'Really well…..really well...like a Grandmother', she sighs dreamily, unseen by her we wink, this is fabulous, Christmas gone Gabe invited them to Dublin to meet his parents, Senora Bianchi the last bastille, _yeah…Michelle would look amazing in a Vera Wang wedding gown...ivory...classic flower arrangements of red roses…elegant cutlery...ivory linen napkins_.

'Vi dearest what news of darling Mina and Tristan', Ari slicing scones in half cuts through my thoughts of a massive wedding.

Smothering the top half of one with clotted cream, 'they went to Cam and Geoff's Tuesday last to celebrate Geoff's safe return from Darfur with Medicines San Frontiers. Mina dropped a bombshell, announced she quit Columbia...this is only after three months Michelle', I nod to her, she nods while chewing, 'four years is too long to become a corporate solicitor she said and proclaimed she'd rather take her place within Stenning standing by Tri's side as…..…wait for it', they're smiling in amusement, 'his vice president'.

'Oh dear I surmise this saga shall be a worse than', Ari giggles giving me the eye.

'The sexed up tits and arse eleven foot Tinkerbelle', we chorus Tri's lament of last Christmas, Michelle's expression clueless, I explain that because Tri wouldn't budge his 1948 Vincent Black Shadow motorbike displayed in the living room of their loft apartment in retaliation Mina bought the hideous granite fairy sculpture and plonked it smack bang wallop in the middle of it. Result, motorbike now displayed in the entrance foyer, Tinkerbelle sold at a loss by Tri's mate Brad who lives in Seattle to a successful strip club owner in Vegas, 'well at least she didn't end up in a park with pigeon droppings all over her although I don't want to think what could be landing', I add jokingly, we burst into laughter.

Laughter ceases as the old fashioned brass bell above the shop door jangles, Mr Wilkinson, landlord of the Fox and Hound bustles in and continues to bustle into the tearoom, 'your Ladyship, Miss Granger, Miss Parker, how are you ladies this fine autumnal afternoon', he greets in his usual courteous way, we greet in return.

'Take a load off Mr Wilkinson', I smile but have to gesture to the chair he didn't understand what I meant, 'a cup of tea and a scone'.

'How gracious', he nods, sits, I pour him one, 'such news, not that I am one for gossip mongering', no one could accuse him of that, he's extremely community spirited and rightly, for donkey's years the Wilkinson's have leased and run the pub. A surge of gratefulness swells, he and all who live here fully accept me as Countess Hillingham. Not draconian Upstairs Downstairs times I know but they didn't have to, more so because I'm only twenty two, definitely not ladylike, too clumsy and Irish to boot, it could have gone well tits up.

He adds a slice of lemon to his tea and stirs, 'the new owners of Manor house', he holds us in suspense by sipping, slowly, 'arrived by all accounts very early this morning, very early in fact therefore as well Miss Granger you provide a delivery service for they may require initial provisions before they grace Tesco's in Brompton'.

Ari smiles kindly, 'indeed Mr Wilkinson added business is most welcome'.

'Your ladyship', expression turns sheepish, _so sweet_, Mr W is in love with Mrs M, former housekeeper and widower of Hillingham Hall, she began the post when Ethan was three years old, he loves her dearly as do I. Over a year ago she left for Liverpool to live with her daughter Rosie, grandson Laurence, named after Ethan's middle name and Rosie's husband Malcolm, a nicer family you could ever meet, 'may I be forward...enquire as to the health of Mrs Morgan'.

'Flying fit Mr Wilkinson', I smile, he hasn't plucked up the courage to contact her and she'd love it, time to bite the bullet, 'she wrote last week asking about village news and her buddies on the committee and was wondering if you'd write to her, you knowing them far better than me'.

'Well I say', poor man flustered, Michelle's holding in giggles, 'please may I request her address for I should like to inform the dear lady I put her chicken and ham pie recipe on the pub's lunch menu'.

_Bingo_, 'gladly Mr Wilkinson, I'll email it to you when I get home'.

'How kind', in a dither he drains his tea, 'I fear I must take my leave, your Ladyship, Miss Granger, Miss Parker', we nod and he does, taking with him not one but two scones, we let out our held in giggles.

'Come now Vi', Ari's tone blatantly curious, 'what do you know of the new owners'.

'Nothing only what we all know, Manor house was sold last month'.

'Surely Ethan has information, I would be very surprised if not', she states.

'If he has he's not told me', as much as I love her the feeling I keep buried deep sometimes sizzles, like now, Ari was and is in love with Ethan and if he was capable of loving as he's learning to do with me when they dated six years ago she'd be the quintessential Lady Rochester. Elegant, graceful, poised, beautiful, knows what to say when to say it, which knife and fork to use, _finishing school gives you those skills Violet_, fizzling out the sizzle I smile, 'I'll buzz and quiz him later'.

'I've some information', mischievously Michelle grins, our ears perk up, 'before work this morning I needed to nip to Brompton, I took the east route from the village and what do you know, my car happened to stall outside the gates. A hive of activity, lorries delivery expensive looking furniture in keeping with the style of the Manor, an SUV, sport and town cars parked in the drive', she pauses sips her tea.

'Carry on Miss Marple', I giggle.

'I caught a glimpse'.

'Only a glimpse', I interject, we laugh.

'Of who I think are the owners. In the distance stood by the conservatory pointing this way and that, he's tall, bronze coppery hair, dashing, she's petite, brunette, very pretty, both glamorous and I guess American'.

'Why American', Ari asks.

'They're clothes, accessories, bling, the guy was wearing Ray Ban aviator sunglasses', we stare at her quizzically, she laughs, 'I recognised them, Gabriel has a pair'.

'Glad you explained Michelle', I grin, 'for one minute I thought you stormed the gates for a closer look', we laugh, checking my mobile, 'balls...didn't realise it was this late, see you guys sometime tomorrow if not Thursday'.

Belting through the garages I reach the door of the staff quarters corridor in a puff, open it and flake my way along running late as usual.

Racing through the utility room then the family kitchen out into the main hall, even faster I cross it and scoot into the library.

Arse not rested for more than thirty seconds on my favourite couch by the fireplace, 'please come in', I call to the knock on the double doors heat from the roaring fire is burning already flushed cheeks.

Briskly the demon housekeeper does, 'good afternoon your Ladyship', a grim smile.

'Good afternoon Mrs Whitaker', I greet.

'Afternoon post your Ladyship', she informs placing the pile neatly in the silver organiser on the desk then pointedly shuffles printed menus for the week ahead in her hands, why Tuesday is the correct day to go through menus, no clue, must be carved in stone somewhere.

We got through them, my gob shut I just listened but fair is fair, she and Mr Fallows head grounds keeper are efficient, nothing goes to waste, this makes Ethan happy. He's very conscience the Estate's natural resources from the orchards, veg gardens, woods full of deer to the lake and rivers full of trout, carpe and God knows what else are sustainable, productive and managed to perfection.

Leafing through the pile of post, _all for Ethan_, 'yeah...same way he runs the Rochester Corporation fairly but with an iron fist', the last envelope has no postal stamp, nothing unusual in that. Fans of stately homes come to the gates requesting tours which drives Ethan bonkers, tirades in fact, "_do I seek excursion through their homes and gardens, do I_", rolling my eyes, 'oh…..nice stationery...addressed to us both'.

Normally I discard them before Ethan claps eyes but with nothing else to do other than email Mr Wilkinson I skip to the couch, not bothering with his favourite bejewelled letter opener, nearly cut the finger off myself last time I used it anyway, tear open the envelope and read the letter.

On my mobile in a flash, 'hi, am I disturbing you?'

'Of course not my darling…...ummmm you sound rather excited', heart beats faster tummy tightens just from the sound of his voice.

I activate the popping in for chats lie and relay the conversation, 'do you know anything about the new owners', I add, nosily.

Hearing tapping of a computer keyboard while waiting for him to answer, 'yes, I had Holland conduct a general background check'.

'Why', stupid question, no surprise Ethan would check things out but I'm miffed he never said anything.

'A bland interest in who acquires property in the area', he drawls, says no more.

'And', I prompt.

'A Mr and Mrs Christian Grey of Seattle, he is CEO of his own steadily expanding company, net worth if published stats can be believed is between nine and eleven billion, Mrs Grey is head of a small independent publishing house which happens to owned by Grey Enterprises'.

'He must think the world of her running part of his company', a not so subtle dig, he doesn't disguise a snort.

'My dear Violet as it stands you are running part of our company', he emphasised our, 'for the running of Hillingham Hall is akin to running a medium sized business and my darling I rest easy in RC knowing it is in your delicate but capable hands', _bloody hell_, he's got such a knack of praising and shaming in one.

'Thanks Ethan I try my best', I curb a sigh, 'the reason I rang is because they wrote a letter, delivered by hand don't know by who, like a quaint introduction, what do you make of that'.

'Quaint indeed and rather polite, the author who Violet', I hear more tapping as I check.

'Mrs Grey...oh…Anastasia…..lovely name', an idea sparks.

'I see', tone disinterested, 'perhaps order Mrs Whitaker to send over to Manor house a welcome basket of sorts, that is the custom in America is it not for welcoming neighbours', giggles erupt, heart leaps hearing his glorious laughter, 'my, my, what is your amusement'.

'Ethan a welcome basket would work if we lived in Wisteria Lane and my name is Bree Van de Kamp', holding in more.

'I do not comprehend', thought you wouldn't, _for Pete's sake Violet stop being such a gobshite he's never seen Desperate Housewives_.

'A joke about a TV program …..I've got a brill idea'.

'You do dear', wary tone.

'A dinner party Friday night to welcome them…invite Gabe and Michelle, he's bound to be around for the weekend also Ari and wait for it'.

'With bated breath', he's muffling laughter.

'Mr Cleary', I announce, a resounding loud no in my ear, 'why not, he's got the hots for her and I think Ari likes him, could be the start of something'.

'No Violet, Cleary is my personal SD, the employer employee line would be broken, not satisfactory, rather uncomfortable in fact not only for me but Cleary', I stop an eye roll and huff.

'I heard you huff', _damn_, thought it was silent, he sighs impatiently, 'dearest by all means organise said dinner party. Pluck a man from the village to even up numbers if you must but no to Cleary', _leave it Violet...Lord Control has spoken_.

'Yeah all right...Ethan', conjuring up a plan to get my husband home early.

'Yes Violet'.

'Will you come home early Friday…I thought cocktails at seven before dining at eight might be a nice touch'.

'Certainly', _oh boy_, smouldering tone, 'for I intend to perform my husbandly duties before five'.

Hotly puce in a nanosecond but the opportunity to get another dig in is too tempting, I'm not happy Ethan spends Monday to Friday's in RC, it's not as if he couldn't commute, chopper back and forth or drive, 'great I'll make sure to dust the cobwebs first'.

'Now, now dear sarcasm is most unbecoming', he ends the call in a laugh.

Sarcastically I laugh then send an email to Mr Wilkinson and hum, Here Comes the Bride for Michelle and Mrs M.

* * *

Nose taking complete control I decide to call on them, last night I politely asked Mrs Whitaker to put together a basket, Ethan's idea not bad after all, showcase the county's produce and samples of artisan products the shop carries. The twenties style picnic basket found in the attic is way cool, reminiscent of those times and it's got a fine saddle of venison stuffed into it as well.

Clambering into my Mini Morris hiccupping, I'd swear there's a clump of scrambled eggs stuck in my throat, I ate breakfast fast so I could dodge my SD. I keep telling Ethan I don't need, "_minding_", in Hillingham and he's finally coming round so I'm not too anxious, nor was I yesterday and in truth I like Pam, Miss Lane, she's always up for the craic.

'Balls', I mutter in annoyance dragging from the arse pocket of my jeans my ringing mobile, a huge grin spreads across my face as I glance at the number and tap to answer, 'hi Bro from another Mo'.

He laughs, 'hey pixy girl, how you doing hun', heart tugs happily hearing his voice.

'Grand...what are you doing up at five in the morning', suddenly realising the time difference of five hours or so.

'Mina and I just touched down in RC Air, a surprise visit', he chortles, I squeal in delight.

'Brill…..does Ethan know...are you coming straight to Hillingham', I ask switching on the ignition in the background hearing Mina's shrilling something about Fendi luggage.

'He does hun and we are, h three is free, see you in forty Sis', he ends the call.

Driving Penelope Pitstop, the ridiculous name I gave my car, over the sensor, I stop her and while waiting for a garage door to open I send an email to staff's central inbox informing Mrs Whitaker of their arrival and alerting Mr Fallows of h 3's, horses have grazed in the north and south field so the helipads are most likely covered in crap, 'I can't wait to see him', I squeal again, 'Mina to', no squeal.

Taking the drive like a bat out of hell, soon Penelope Pitstop is racing and bouncing along the country road that bypasses the village and will bring me directly onto the one for Manor house. Laughing recalling the day I passed my driving test, Ethan proud as punch announced I could have any car I wanted, laughing harder vividly picturing his expression of thunder when I said a Mini Morris. Small easy to manage was my thought, he tried to persuade me into some kind of yoke with safety specs up the wazzoo but couldn't back pedal out of it because he said what I wanted, 'a small triumph Lady Rochester…one over on Lord Control'.

Fiddling with my docked iPod, Jason Derulo's Talk Dirty blasts loudly, happily singing along one half of brain concentrating on driving the other fantasising about Ethan doing naughty things to me, a thought seeps in, 'yeah…..about time for another one over on him…practice my knot tying skills'.

Visions of doing that several times to Gabe flash, obliterating them, guilt swirling that I'm betraying Ethan, _for Pete's sake Violet you're not…you married Earl Kinky because he's your one true love_. Locking into the recesses of my mind memories of our not so roses and daffodils journey sternly I tell myself to stop dwelling on the past, 'water well under the bridge of being his companion in the exploratory union of all things kinkyarsed'.

Ten minutes later I slow the car to a stop in front of the black wrought iron gates and remember having a glass of sherry in the curved grove with the late Ms Hitchmore the week after marrying Ethan, a lovable but completely batty woman, 'God rest her soul'. A man in a well-cut navy suit materialises, opens one side enough to slip out, wouldn't take a genius to figure out he's SD and expression stern annoyance, maybe he spotted Michelle snooping and thinks the village is awash with nosey parkers.

Pressing the button, the window slides down, 'hi, my name's Violet, my husband and I received a letter from', _crap_, her name's vanished from my head, 'from...Mrs Grey, I'm here to say hello, thanks and welcome', could I sound any more like an idiot.

'Ma'am your full name please', he asks in what's definitely an ex-FBI voice, inwardly giggling, Holland, head of security, Cleary, Mathews, Pam and all the rest sound like ex-MI6.

'Violet Jones Stenning Rochester...a gobload...I know', I answer in a fit of giggles that burst, his expression now beyond bemused and annoyed, giggles evaporate as the most stunning woman I've ever seen flits to the gate.

'Taylor who is it', her American accent floats on the air like a light chime of a bell.

SD guy repeats it, 'are you expecting a guest Mrs Grey', he adds somewhat tersely, lustrous glossy long chestnut locks flow as she shakes her head, _Michelle is Miss Marple_, 'Rochester...the letter', she murmurs then surprises me by hurtling clumsily to the car, 'hello Countess...emmm...I'm sorry how are you addressed…...Taylor open the gates please'.

'Violet', I blurt, noting while doing so SD guy's yacking into thin air but there's an earpiece jammed in his earlobe, 'Mrs Grey if you're busy I can call another time', another blurt.

'Jeez no come in please', she smiles gleefully.

'Ok', I smile, she races back to the guy who then starts hand signalling like he's guiding an Airbus360 from a runway, briefly I wonder have vapours from the Forrest Pine car freshener made me high because I'm finding this hilarious.

At a crawl I drive, wary of mowing anyone down, the guy signals where to park, right behind a brand spanking new Audi R8, I do, thankfully not too close, unbuckle, hop out, steady a wobble on the slope before I land in the rockery, 'are you ok', sidling up she asks, expression not knowing whether to laugh or be concerned.

'Yeah…...happen to have two left feet', I grin, she grins and blushes, so weird, I take to her and think she may have the matching right feet.

'Please come inside, take tea…..that's how the English do it', large blue eyes sparkle.

'Sure but I'd murder a coffee Anastasia', miraculously her name came back to me, she laughs.

'I can manage that…Violet'.

Scooting to the boot, opening it, 'a welcome basket', I tell her, try to lift it, giggle, 'who knew a saddle of venison weighs a ton'.

'Wow very kind...Taylor please', she gestures, with ease he lifts and eyes it suspiciously like it could contain a bomb, 'take it to the pantry Taylor and tell Mrs Jones coffee please'.

'Yes Mrs Grey', he sets off taking the outdoor route to the back of the house.

She ushers to the open front door, 'I didn't expect you'd call in person, a reply letter I thought'.

'Oh….…sorry', _shit_, I never think things through, fairly forward showing up out of the blue.

'I didn't mean it that way, I'm delighted you did', she assures guides to the secondary drawing room, self-consciously I eye her chic cream dress and fidget with the hem of my ancient black tee emblazoned in green with the tagline, "_The Leprechauns Made Me Do It_".

'Sit please', she gestures to an elegant blue and white striped fabric couch, I do, she sits on the matching one opposite, 'I'm sorry my husband Christian's not here to introduce him, he's just left for London to tie up loose ends with the realtor, gives me time to sort out the furniture', she frowns, 'foot in it again, I wasn't implying you're holding me up'.

I smile reassuringly, 'news is you arrived yesterday, probably too early to ask but do you like Hillingham so far'.

'Oh yes', a broad smile, 'Christian knows I love all things English, he bought this house as a surprise', a sweet light laugh, 'last night we drove around the village...so Henry James', she's lost me, I nod nonetheless, 'we hope to spend at least one month a year here, business wouldn't allow for longer but', another light laugh, 'there's no discounting long weekends'.

'Long weekends can be the best', I grin, 'for Hillingham June's the most active month outside Christmas, the Village Fete and Banquet, Mid Summer's Night Ball at our place and Mr Wilkinson landlord of the Fox and Hound hosts a pub quiz followed by Karaoke that would rival any night out in London'.

'June sounds like the month to be here…..got to say your home is amazing, reminds me of Mr Darcy's in Pride and Prejudice', vaguely remembering watching a few episodes with my friend Sar many moons ago, fleetingly I wonder what became of her, not the nicest friend she turned out to be but still I hope she's ok, 'a lot of work involved I'd imagine', she smiles.

'Yeah never a dull moment, loads to do', I say proudly, a knock to the door.

'Come in Mrs Jones'.

A pretty kindly middle-aged woman does carrying a tray, lays it on an Edwardian style coffee table between the couches, 'Mrs Jones this is Countess Hillingham, Violet our housekeeper from home Mrs Jones', the woman offers her hand, my cheeks redden in seconds..

Shaking it, 'hi Mrs Jones lovely to meet you, I'm Jones as well, maiden name', why am I blithering.

'Nice to meet you Countess', she smiles, I nod, cheeks beyond red, efficiently she serves the coffee and leaves.

'Have I embarrassed you in some way Violet', concerned tone.

'No course not, it's the Countess this and your Ladyship that…..emmm…...well…..I suppose…..odd to me'.

'I understand', she smiles and in her tone I strongly get the feeling she does, I smile in return, we continue to chat easily, comfortably. She tells me of her career in publishing and life in general, in return I tell her more about the village, it's residents and tales of the late Ms Hitchmore, 'dolls hanging from the apple trees in the orchard', her expression astounded.

'Yeah', I giggle, 'the only way to attract their kin she said. One too many Sherries I thought but morbid curiosity led me to ask did she mean other dolls. The look she gave was I've ten heads or just dim, good grief your Ladyship, how could aliens possibly attract dolls'.

'What a character, rest her soul but I'm relieved none were found', she giggles petite hand covering her dainty mouth, a sun ray through one window bounces off her whopping great engagement and understated wedding rings, catching me looking her eyes dart to my naked wedding ring finger. Weirdly she tenses, looks about nervously as if I'm an intruder who told a pack of lies and is about to pull a gun on her at any minute.

'Anastasia', softly I address, 'my engagement ring is also my wedding ring, an heirloom, passed down through the generations. I'm really only custodian, wear it rarely, the insurance company is chuffed they get jittery especially if it goes outside England. Which it did, twice, the second time I nearly lost it down a storm drain in New York', finding myself frowning thinking of the first, when Ethan lamped over to Cork, proposed, I refused, I shrug off the memory, 'so I decided why bother upsetting them and got a tattoo instead', she relaxes, I pop across, sit, and stick out my finger, 'the Rochester family motto, Fortitudinis Supra Omnia'.

'It's beautiful…Fortitude Above All', she studies the tiny black flowing scrollwork by Guillermo the Tatt Guru. Ethan insisted on him because he's not only the best but also did Ethan's tattoo of the family motto back when Ethan was nineteen, a stunning piece of intricate elaborate scrollwork running down his spine from the nape of his sexy neck to the base of his sexy back.

Initially I pitied Guillermo, he gave up going to his ultimate favourite band's gig to be flown in from Buenos Aires and out again but as the needle vibrated against my bone pity vanished, it hurt like the fiery pokers of hell, suddenly she giggles, 'I like the name Ethan, Christian's sister Mia is engaged to an Ethan, my best friend's brother, and she, Katherine, Kate for short is engaged to Christian's brother Elliot'.

'That's brill', I grin, 'I bet when you all get together the craic is mighty', _crap_, she tenses again, _she hasn't a clue what you're on about Violet_, 'it's an Irish saying, meaning having the laugh, fun, a few gigs and reels, not drugs', thankfully she relaxes and grins, 'Ethan's first cousin Wilhelmina, Mina for short is married to my half-brother Tristan, Tri for short…..oh shit', I blurt, _not very ladylike Violet_.

'What's up', alarmed tone but she's giggling.

'Got so carried away with the banter I forgot they're on their way, just in from NY where they live', I hop up, 'sorry about this but I've not seen him since June', we shake hands.

'Course, I'm an only child Violet, I would've loved siblings but Kate and Mia are like sisters to me, Elliot and Ethan like brothers', might be mistaken but I detect a tinge of loneliness in her tone, curtly she ushers to the front door.

'Anastasia how long are you guys staying in Hillingham, not nosiness I assure you but I'd like to invite you both to our place Friday night, a welcome to Hillingham dinner I suppose you'd call it', not a good sign she's hesitant.

'We're leaving Sunday…..emmm…..Violet your gift and invitation is very kind, I'll say it to Christian...he may have made plans for Friday night', a hesitant reply.

'Totally understand, if you're able let me know', we're accompanied by SD guy to my car, his demeanour to my mind suggests I'm about to abduct her.

'Where's my brain…handy if you had our number', I giggle and fish from the glove compartment a business sized card with our address and landline embossed on it, grinning I hand it to her, 'again welcome to Hillingham and loads of happiness with Manor house'.

'Thanks Violet', she smiles an endearing, warm smile, then the sudden thunderous noise of a low flying chopper over the house nearly bursts our eardrums and nearly blows us over with the wind it's creating, _that bollix Tri is showing off to Mina…..what_, as it whizzes away at an acute angel I catch a glimpse of Ethan flying it, grinning his Cheshire cat grin, Tri next to him waving like a halfhead.

_Damn_, now Ethan knows Pam's not with me, I don't care my husband's home, 'Violet is there a designated flight path directly over Manor house', she asks voiced raised above the waning noise of the rotors, hands taming glossy hair whipping about her beautiful face, SD guy doesn't look one bit impressed.

Rather than sounding like a pretentious snob and tell her that is the Earl arriving home flying one of his four choppers, 'God no...not at all…..emmmmm...someone took a wrong turn I'd say', I smile, release my ponytail, climb into Penelope Pitstop, start her up and wave goodbye taking the drive more quickly than I arrived.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

'I'd like to go Christian, I know you said you'd prefer we keep to ourselves while here but she's real nice, not what you'd expect', I smile sweetly knotting my fingers.

His eyes narrow but not too much, 'what way'.

'Gosh…..how to describe her', I pause.

'Descriptive nouns packed up on you baby', a hint of a smile, I mock pout, 'sorry only joking', he takes my hands effectively un-knotting my fingers and squeezes them apologetically.

'I know', I smile, 'but it's hard to', visualizing long straight silvery hued blonde hair in a simple ponytail, elf-like face, a small scar to the corner of an equally small mouth, large bright violet colored eyes dancing with life, and a petite fragile frame with womanly curves, 'Christian it's like she was dropped from the heavens and damaged a wing on landing'.

Pulling me down and into the best place on the planet, his lap, I curl up, rest my head on his broad shoulder, 'very descriptive...Ana baby heaven was generous dropping you...you smell so good, like an English rose', he purrs nuzzles my hair, I giggle and tousle his copper bronzed just-fucked-hair, 'accept the invite', he adds in a knowing tone.

'You know something...what do you know Christian...tell me...stop distracting me', his hand is caressing my calve edging its way up to my thigh beneath the hemline of my cream linen fitted dress, quivers flutter.

'I did some investigating, the Earl privately owns and runs the Rochester Corporation based in Canary Wharf, remember our honeymoon, the Fair Lady', I blush peck his lips in answer, 'we commented on being Super Rich'.

My head pops up, 'is he the Sir somebody or other who owns the Fair Lady'.

Shaking his head in amusement, 'no baby and I'm talking about wealth, we're Super Rich, he's Supersonic Rich, while in London I got Sawyer to drive by Rochester Corporation's HQ, impressive'.

'Grander than Grey House', I quip.

'No', a near pout, 'different', then a grin, 'tell me what else she said', I do stroking his chiseled jawline, he listened intently then eyes alight, 'her half-brother's a New Yorker, did she say what his surname is'.

'No…..oh but it must be Stenning, maiden name's Jones, Rochester her married, I overheard her telling Taylor', I smile picturing her doing so in giggles, 'why Christian'.

'Jesus Christ', he laughs and rolls his eyes in irony, 'when the Supersonic Rich marry they find their kind. If the same guy, Tristan Stenning is CEO of the Stenning Corporation, not a big as Rochester's but not far behind'.

'Really Christian you make us sound like paupers', l laugh and kiss his full soft mouth.

Held blissfully tighter in his arms, 'we're definitely no paupers Ana', a fevered kiss then lips spread to a grin against mine, 'bed, now, I want to christen ours a third time', everything south of my waist quickens.

* * *

Laughing my head off running around our suite in my underwear Ethan in hot pursuit in just a towel wrapped around his waist, 'where did you get the feather duster', I squawk captured happily in his arms.

'From an obliging member of staff on her rounds', he grins wolfishly.

Grazing gently the fiery red opals beads of his right barbell nipple piercing, 'she must have thought hell was freezing over his Lordship taking it upon himself to dust the ornaments'.

Inclining his head, full sculptured lips part sexily, cupid's bow dips, dark brown eyes darken further and flicker heatedly, 'ummmmm…..I know of one ornament in much need of dusting, reliably informed it is gathering cobwebs', no control I burst out laughing, 'amusement indeed my Lady', _oh boy_, recognising the change of tone, pelvis tightens, nipples tauten, 'once clear of cobwebs I shall utilise this', circling the duster once in the air, 'to teach owner of cobwebs not to test my patience in matters where SD is concerned'.

Gulping in delicious trepidation, intentions of practicing for the first time my knot skills on him dissipate, 'fair enough but can owner of cobwebs have a kiss first', slowly he shakes his head no in answer, with both hands I reach up and grasp soft, lush, black raven hair and give the biggest pout ever, puppy dog eyes attached.

In a quick move my arms by his are locked behind my back, the handle of the duster in his hand hurts my wrist, a hot mouth sensually crushes against mine, teasingly his tongue probes then teeth nip my bottom lip, 'endure your punishment first my Lady then I shall blissfully kiss you all over'.

Quivers ripple from my head to my toes, 'hang on Rochester, in order for me to accept this deal you're going to have to throw in cooking supper as well', mischievously I grin wriggle from his hold and run to the bed hearing his glorious hearty laughter.

* * *

'Christian', I scream my release.

'Oh Ana', he roars his then collapses by my side, 'country air', he pants, we laugh, entwine and reach full sated calm by lovingly and sensually kissing.

'That was nice, more than nice', I grin.

'I aim to please Mrs Grey', he chuckles, the English air and countryside suits him, his humor's buoyant, imagining him wearing tweeds and deerstalker on a hunt, not likely, Christian is anti-guns. Fleetingly I wonder does the Earl partake in country pursuits, must do if the saddle of venison is to go by and I'm curious, very curious, what he looks like, his personality and business acumen.

'Can't say a cent, so a penny for them', Christian murmurs staring into my eyes.

'Does Mrs Jones know how to roast venison', I lie not wanting to get Christian's back up, all the reassurances in the world wouldn't erase his insecurities and what little time we're able to spend here I'd love it to be a fantasy escape, a permanent reminder of the beginning of our honeymoon, 'Christian take me to London tomorrow...afternoon tea at the Ritz...oh and Harrods, we've got to buy something for the Rochester's'.

'Whatever you want baby', running his nose down mine making me quiver, 'nap time before dinner', but his tone implies something else.

* * *

Mulling over supper last night, 'a bloody disaster', I huff slamming the Gorenje fridge door shut, Tri and Mina brought their troubles with them, said nothing but it was brewing, only upside Ethan cooked a lovely meal, 'he's a dab hand turning bubble and squeak into a gourmet dish'. Abandoning a box of Coco Pops as into the family kitchen Tri trundles wearing mismatched pj's, blonde hair arseways to Sunday, blue eyes bleary. Arguing all night I suspect, I give him a hug and basically pitch him to the nearest chair, 'espresso you look like you could do with one'

'A double', he groans, _oh dear_, hungover as well, I quick step it to the Jura, place a cup under the nozzle and hit the button, 'where's Ethan', he asks head in hands.

'On Orpheus galloping around the Estate Mr Fallows on Bounty I reckon trying to keep up', I can't help grinning, Ethan's horsemanship is astounding, like everything else about him, except for one flaw, he's absolutely tone deaf, not a note in his perfect head, giggles erupt.

'What's so funny pixy girl', another groan, _no…..enough of this_.

'You Tristan', I snap, he looks at me, eyes now alert.

'You only call me Tristan when you're hacked off with me Sis', sad tone, _bloody hell_.

Bringing over the full to the brim tiny cup, 'look Tri, we're family, welcome in each others homes at a drop of a hat but it's obvious your visit is because of Mina's decision'.

'That's the size of it', he slurps the coffee.

'What's Cam's view', I ask sitting next to him.

'Vi you know my Mom and Geoffrey, wisely staying clear so is Ethan, which my honey is even more upset about', he sighs, 'I can't justly create a VP position, I'd have department heads making waves, Mina doesn't see that'.

I sigh, grab a digestive biscuit from the packet on the table, munch and think, 'is Myer still head of Stenning PR', I ask mouth full.

'Yeah, got us out of some fine scrapes', he grins, rolling my eyes, he sure did, collateral damage of Mina's party hopping in every celebrity hotspot in New York drawing unwanted publicity.

'I'm not saying this to offend you or Mina...she loves the limelight', he rolls his eyes in recognition, 'but she's got real talent, natural flair so what if Myer were to channel it for the good, instil responsible welcome publicity. His executive assistant, now I mean right up there executive', I wink.

The Fourth of July expression lights up his handsome face, 'omigod you are some genius pixy girl', we bear hug.

'I have my moments but no brewing arguments about to explode ok, especially during the dinner party tomorrow night, the Greys accepted, Mrs Grey rang earlier and I don't want them thinking they've entered a lunatic asylum or the fifth circle of hell'.

'Gotcha…..by the way he's a cool guy, delved, on the QT does a lot for charity, Darfur as it happens, business wise solid, ethical'.

'Brill, you both have things in common, my next problem finding a dinner partner for Ari, if I can pull that off I will say I'm a genius', I relay Tuesday's conversation with Ethan regarding Mr Cleary.

Draining his coffee, eyes scrunch up in thought, 'sorry hun, gotta agree with Ethan...what about the dude giving her the eye at the Ball June gone...hells bells what was he name, tallish, distinguished, white iris in his tux lapel'.

Racking my brain munching another biscuit, he comes to mind, 'Tri you're the genius', I splutter crumbs, 'he's a widower of three years', he laughs, 'oh that wasn't very nice was it...no matter I'll explain to my maker it was for the good but don't tell Ethan ok'.

'Why not', he asks quizzically.

'Well using Ethan's terminology, Lord Richard Castleton why given a superpower on this earth I cannot fathom, that of, the ability to bore anyone he converses with to the point of death', Tri nearly falls off the chair laughing, well I did mock lovingly Ethan's accent.

'Pixy girl, you're so going to hell', he hoots.

'Well aware of that Tri', I grin, get up skip my way to the cosy den adjacent to the kitchen close the door with phone calls well in mind.

Half hour later grin wider, Michelle said Gabe is coming over from Naples for the weekend and their up for it. Ari said what she observed of Lord Castleton at the Ball he appears gentlemanly, worth getting to know and will wear her stunning moss green silk dress she wore in Amalfi, 'perfect, showcases her greenish brown eyes to perfection', I sigh.

Also, when a butler put my call through Lord Castleton exclaimed what an honour, how enthralling he finds Miss Granger then banged on for a good three minutes about shedding leaves clogging the shoots of Morton Abbey, 'no worries Rich, Ari will unclog your shoots for you', bursting into laughter I ring the bell chord for Mrs Whitaker, 'definitely need her efficiency now', _yeah…..and be gracious Violet...ok...stop nagging_.

* * *

Admiring a set of eight cut crystal tumblers, 'Ana', Christian slides his arm around my waist, 'my opinion, Hillingham Hall has tumblers tumbling out of it', he grins then un-Christian-Grey-like stumbles against me and glowers at the person who stumbled into him, a blonde super model adorned in a sable fur coat, I roll my eyes.

'I do apologise, crowds in Harrods on a Thursday afternoon, what has the world come to', an English upper class voice chirps, a tall striking blonde haired man, who reminds me of Ethan grasps her hand, 'you ok my honey', and glowers at Christian, she nods in a fluster, _yes lady, this is my sexy hot husband_.

'Crowds, no harm done', Christian grasps my hand.

'Pardon me Sir, I heard you make mention of Hillingham Hall', an accusatorial tone, _what's this bitches problem_, 'I wish to inform it is not open to the public', she eyes the tumblers, 'and if were gifts would not be required'.

Anger rising in Christian is palpable, 'how do you know, work for the British Tourist Board', _oh no_, tone eerily low.

'Look man she knows ok, no need to be an ass', the guy's tone steely.

'Matter of fact Sir I do, my cousin is the Seventh Earl of Hillingham', she snaps.

A smile crosses Christian's lips, 'in that case dinner tomorrow night will be tumbler free, nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Stenning, my wife Mrs Anastasia Grey', offering his free hand to her, distractedly she shakes it, expression who, what dinner.

'Cool dude', Mr Stenning grins handsomely offers his to Christian, he shakes it in CEO mode, Mr Stenning offers his hand to me, briefly I shake it and feel the friendly warm vibes emanating from him, 'really great to meet you guys, Violet my sister said you bought a house in the village, small world, aint that so Mina honey'.

'Indeed', she ekes a smile, 'getting smaller by the minute', and adds under her breath, _holey moley_, if she's anything to go by Christian won't like Earl Hillingham, shame because I like Violet, down to earth, reminds me of me.

'So far we're pleased with Manor house, some changes here and there', Christian replies cordially but he's still angry.

'Oh Manor house', surprised tone, 'ah...to advise, it is a grade two listed building therefore changes be they here or there could prove problematic. As I recall old lady Hitchmore was refused a Satellite dish on the west chimney, personally rather unfair I thought denying the poor woman her fill of re runs of the X Files'.

Containing laughter, _Violet was right regarding the late Ms Hitchmore_, Christian eyes me quizzically, 'until tomorrow night then', he nods, Mr Stenning smiles genuinely Mrs Stenning strained politeness.

'Should be a good night', he grins, 'ok my honey let's go', nods all round they depart, Christian sighs.

'Ok Christian she's a snob but Mr Stenning's nice', I edge him away from the set of tumblers that could possibly never see a drink poured into them.

'How nice', _oh uh_, tone back to eerily low.

'For God's sake Christian, nice in the sense he's a Saint putting up with his wife', I snap, he laughs.

'As ever point well-made Mrs Grey', he brings my hand up to his sexy mouth and kisses each knuckle in turn, 'any ideas what to buy the Rochester's'.

'No but when all else fails an expensive ornament', I grin.

'Fine by me but not spending more than ten thousand…Dollars not Sterling', he adds, I sigh inwardly so unlike Christian to be ungenerous.

* * *

Thoroughly enjoying a second delicious cucumber, cream cheese, dill, and chive sandwich in the opulent surroundings of The Ritz, 'England suits you Ana', Christian smiles, 'and your appetite'.

'Because we're together', I mumble with my mouth full, sip a glass of pink Bollinger, swallow and tell him my thoughts of how I wish our time here to be.

'Pure escapism, fantasy', tone distant, he sips a coffee, 'Ana', he hesitates, I squeeze his knee urging him to continue, he sighs, 'initially I was hesitant buying Manor house, part of me feared once you saw it and the country lifestyle you wouldn't want to go back home', _oh no_, eyes troubled, fearful, insecure.

'Christian take what I said at face value, I love you, our homes', I smile reassuringly then wink, 'running SIP and I wouldn't swop what we have for all the Twinning's Morning tea in England', his relief visible.

A curious expression crosses his too beautiful face, 'what does your new found friend Violet do besides rattling around Hillingham Hall'.

Shrugging my shoulders, 'she implied it's a job in itself', a speculative expression replaces curiosity, about to speak he stops, an overly helpful waitress appears, gazes at him and asks if the afternoon tea is to his liking, no urge to eye roll because I'm ravenous and pluck a delicate ham sandwich from the tiered stand but I do grin smugly.

* * *

Hand in hand strolling through where we married, his Mum's rose and herb garden, _rest her soul and his Dad's_, stoically roses bushes are yielding the last of their blooms, 'your new neighbour acquaintance Mrs Grey, your thoughts Violet', he asks quietly.

'Lovely Ethan, so nice, friendly, not up her own arse...stunning...like she was created by the gods in charge of, well, creating the beautiful people', I gush.

'My, my, high praise indeed', he utters and guides to the dainty white wrought iron bench where we sat and signed the registry book and sit now, 'you are not cold dearest'.

'No', I lie, denying the early evening nip in the air to spoil this peaceful moment, lean against him and rest my head on his broad shoulder, 'Ethan'.

'Yes Violet', a strong protective arm goes across my shoulders, I'm slipped under his Barbour jacket and feel instant warm from his thin knit sweater clad chest.

'Going to say this outright ok', gathering muster, 'due to the army of staff who really run our home I've little to do, so can I please do just a few hours in the shop or tearoom with Ari and Michelle, I'll go nuts, around the loopey tree otherwise', from nowhere sobs burst, 'I've been lying to you, I do a few hours'.

'My angel', so gently he gathers me up and into the most wondrous place in the world, his lap, 'I am well aware of your few hours as you put it', a thumb softly wipes away tears, 'there, there angel, an unwise man indeed who cannot change his opinion therefore do as many hours as you see fit and minus Miss Lane'.

'Thanks Ethan, thanks so much', with wet cheeks and mouth I kiss my Lord Wonderful's mouth and am rewarded by a deep, loving, long slow kiss in return.

Once over, a happy sigh from me but an odd expression I've never seen grips a face that could start a war between women, 'thank you my most beloved', a mere murmur.

'What for', I ask confused.

'Marrying me in the knowledge I could not love, give true intimacy, kiss your sweet mouth, hold your warm hand, slumber by your side', taking my hand a finger traces my wedding ring tattoo, 'bravery, fortitude indeed, for more is contained in this one little angel digit than anyone I have ever known or care to'.

Dumbstuck, "_follow your heart and dreams, sad person in life who doesn't, love and be loved my blued eyed one, your Dad and me are watching over you_", my Mum's voice filters into my mind and if I could hear Ethan's Mum's I just know she'd say, "_love my one and only child_", 'I love you', comes out of my mouth and the sound is whipped away by a chilly gust and warm soft lips.

* * *

Not often I preen in front of a mirror but I am, loving the teal silk gown Christian bought me in Harrods yesterday along with a limited edition Jack Row paper knife for the Rochester's, for just under ten thousand dollars and a helpful sales assistant gift wrapped it saying it can be sent to Hillingham Hall within the hour. And why did I get the feeling Lord and Lady Rochester are frequent customers I giggle and swish the demure train of Halston mastery, a designer I've not worn before.

'Wow baby you look hot', Christian wearing a sharp cut Armani evening suit, crisp white dress shirt and black tie he purchased, we didn't pack eveningwear for our trip, smiles and shares my reflection then looks around our sumptuous master suite I spent all day tweaking into heritage perfection, 'like what you've done', smiles a wry one, 'Mr Darcy's not going to jump out of that wardrobe is he, shirt wet from swimming in his lake'.

Giggles burst, 'no he's too busy wooing Miss Elizabeth Bennet', swept into his arms ardent kisses to my cheeks, mouth, neck and naked shoulders, 'glad to hear it', lips murmur against my naked collar bones just above where another surprise gift rests, a simple classic four carat teardrop diamond pendant. Suavely he releases me and offers his arm in a flourish, 'Mrs Grey allow me to escort you to Hillingham Hall', another wry smile.

* * *

Popping my head round the glass wall of the double shower, 'hurry up sudsing your bits and bobs it's quarter to seven, cocktails for Pete's sake', I squeal in a tizzy, the ferocious look I give stops him from playfully splashing water at me, 'and by the way', grinning deviously, 'I plucked someone for Ari, Lord Castleton as I speak is picking her up at the shop in his Rolls', I scoot from the bathroom before he explodes.

Belting across our bedroom, I halt, gravitate to the ornate cheval mirror, 'not bad, I suppose', judging the reflection, 'hair's a mess but what can you do', the pale silver flowing gown's plain as are the matching low heeled Mary Jane's, I picked them up in a quirky vintage boutique in Brighton last, racking brain, 'May, no time to dawdle move your arse Violet'.

Momentarily I consider asking a senior member of staff to fetch my engagement ring from the vault, 'no they're busy enough, I've no time to do it...can't remember the bloody combination anyway', leaving our suite, I hurtle to the main staircase like one possessed.

Lamping down to the third floor I crash into Tri, 'at least you're ready', I snap then smile, handsome as ever, wearing a trendy dark grey evening suit, white shirt and black tie.

'Hells bells Vi slow down...you look great', he grins takes my arm and forces me to descend the stairs at a more ladylike pace, 'remember escorting you down these for your first ever Ball'.

Vividly, only fifteen months ago, then I was Ethan's companion, in his home, his sanctuary, where he's at one with, _no, I don't want to think about that weekend and how it ended_, 'yeah, I do', as we make our way my eyes drift to high hanging portraits of Ethan's parents and ancestor's. Eyes drift to the newest, my Mum, Olivia, mine and Tri's Dad, Patrick and Tri's Mum and stepdad Camilla and Geoff.

Ethan had my Mum and Dad's done from photos he robbed from my photo album even before I agreed to be his wife. The day I blustered into Hillingham Hall after travelling from Cork to return his Mum's engagement ring that he left on the breakfast bar in my cottage flashes in my mind. I caved, agreed to be his wife after he confessed to the thievery and showed me the portraits, _course I caved because I never stopped loving him_.

Reaching the first floor landing Tri stops, holds me in his arms, expression brotherly concern, 'hey pixy girl, everything ok'.

'Sure yeah', I smile but mind goes back to fifteen months ago and gets stuck there, movements down in the hall distract, _crap_, Mr Murray, a senior member of staff is greeting Mr and Mrs Grey, 'Tri do the honours with me please, Ethan's taking so long he could be sucked down the shower drain at this stage', I force a giggle.

Taking my hand he grins, 'sure hun, I got your back', we descend the stairs, in a whisper he tells me about Harrods all I can do is roll my eyes, _fifth circle of hell_.

* * *

'Welcome Anastasia, thanks so much for the gift, we love it, Ethan collects letter openers', a shaky tone accompanied by a shaking held out hand, she's anxious, not the same bubbly person when she called Wednesday morning.

'We're glad you do, Violet my husband Christian'.

'Oh', her eyes dart in all directions, 'nice to meet you Mr Grey, you both know Tri...Tristan…..from Harrods…lovely isn't it'.

'Nice to meet you Violet', Christian's tone amused his held out hand is shaken in a fluster, _oh no...not you Violet falling for the Christian Grey effect_.

'Yeah Harrods is great', Mr Stenning grins exchanging handshakes, 'pixy girl library for cocktails yeah'.

'All set up', she mumbles and nods to the liveried butler who greeted us, my eyes soak up every detail of the magnificent hall predominated by a central staircase that splits in two and leads to at least four floors, portraits going back centuries adorn Georgian period walls.

At the rear of the hall behind the staircase I wonder what room the double height elegant double doors conceal, the butler is escorting to a set on the far right, breath catches as we enter a vast beautiful library containing books upon books housed in mahogany glass fronted cabinets, two more liveried staff are waiting by an elegant drinks table, Christian nonchalantly looks around but I can tell he's impressed.

* * *

_Lord above_, no clue why his flickering grey eyes unnerve but they do, there's something about him, dark vibes, staff serve their choice of cocktails, Anastasia a Bellini, Mr Grey a whiskey on the rocks, Tri's fixing his own Dirty Martini, 'I'm sorry Ethan's running late, earlier we had a scare with one of the horses, Orpheus, fetlock, the vet was called but he's grand, sleeping', _will you stop rambling like an idiot Violet_.

'No need to apologize, we're unfashionably early', she smiles, _s__weet divine_, she's so beautiful, they're a stunning couple and you couldn't deny Mr Grey is very handsome in that I've just walked off the catwalk in Milan way.

'Do you keep horses', Tri asks them.

'No, not our thing, is it Ana', a dazzling smile.

'Definitely not Tristan, horses and I don't get along', she grins at Tri, _uh oh_, I don't think Mr Grey liked that judging by the brief look of annoyance.

Flounces of crimson satin and chiffon ensue as Mina enters the library, 'good evening all, hello again Mr and Mrs Grey', they don't get a chance to reply, 'Violet where is Ethie I wish to converse he has put me off all day'.

'Delayed, you look lovely this evening', an eye roll I get, no matter how hard I try for Ethan and Tri's sake Mina and me will never be like sisters.

'Bellini with Bollinger please I care no longer for Cristal', haughtily she orders, a dreaded awkward silence drags on for what seems like and age, Tri's about to open his gob, stops, a member of staff ushers in Gabe and Michelle, I sigh in relief and smile.

Gabe's wearing his trademark skinny guy jeans, Converses, tee and trendy black biker jacket, his diamond stud earrings sparkle as bright as Anastasia's pendent. Michelle is simply amazing in a flowing pale pink dress that showcases her curvaceous figure elegantly and her light auburn hair is piled skilfully on top of her head.

'Anastasia, Mr Grey this is Michelle Parker and Gabriel Leonie-Fitzsimon', I make the introduction, cordially they greet, hands shakes, air kissing, Gabe grins, 'Mina babe Tristan mate not divorced yet I see after Tinkerbelle', Mina huffs, Tri holds in laughter, the Grey's look confused, Michelle's stifling a grin.

Rolling my eyes, 'Gabriel dun da bhéal and get a drink down you', I tell him to shut his gob in Irish.

'Bejazus Vi it's crankier you getting...what...up the duff', he wisecracks, discreetly I stick my tongue out at him, Tri's more successful opening his gob this time and makes conversation with Mr Grey, Anastasia strikes up one with Michelle and Mina, I down my Bellini battling nerves that refuse to untangle.

We're all on our second cocktail when Ari and Lord Castleton are ushered in, 'oh jazus no...no...not that bore', laughingly Gabe mutters under his breath.

'Shut the fuck up', under my breath I hiss, where the bloody hell is Ethan, emerged from someone's shower drain in Australia, in retrospect I don't think the mix of people is going to work.

Another round of introductions are made, Ari hugs me, 'ah Seattle Mr Grey, the Space Needle, a rather pleasing luncheon I believe back in nineteen ninety three, no I must correct, four, then again was it five, tuna, sourced directly from Pike Place Market', _oh no_, Lord Castleton collared Mr Grey, I give Tri the eye, he interjects and plies Lord Castleton with a very large Scotch with very little Soda.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Unusual blend of people, by accent and Mediterranean good looks I guess Gabriel's half Irish half Italian and a roguish character, Michelle's pretty, sweet, shy, and Arianna, _wow_, comes as a surprise she's not Lady Castleton, she epitomizes what I imagine a Ladyship to be.

Smiling happy to see Christian genuinely enjoying the conversation with Tristan and Gabriel, all are of the one age or thereabouts and are standing by an antique card table situation in front of an elegant window. Sipping the refreshing Bellini I stroll to the Oxblood Chippendale by the opulent marble fireplace, the scent of apples and birch permeates from the burning logs, sitting next to Violet, Mina sat further along the couch is engrossed with her cell.

'Violet I'm so impressed with the library, books are my passion'.

'Thanks…..oh…your work…course', she replies distractedly.

'Anything I can do, dinner parties can be daunting. I don't do them very often', a small smile parts her small lips, 'I don't have to, my mother in law Grace has them down to a fine art', her smile broadens but she's still anxious and I wonder if there's more going on than what's now clear, discomfort of Christian not attraction, subtlety she's avoiding him.

'No thanks everything's grand...emmmm', about to continue she doesn't, her eyes dart to the doors opening, _holy fuck_, a tall raven haired god-devil-beautiful man wearing a sophisticated pinstriped black suit strides in, buttons of a snow white dress shirt undone as far as sallow tone skinned collar bones, aura commanding the room.

'Good evening, my sincerest apology for', a brief radiant smile, 'tardiness', _whoa_, his voice, inwardly alarmed this man is unnerving me, I glance to Christian casually strolling over curious expression on his face.

'My beloved, how enchanting you are', gracefully Lord Rochester bows, takes Violet's hand, kisses it, I double take, he slipped a ring on her finger, an oval sapphire of at least six carats surrounded by diamonds, he straightens up, turns slightly, 'Mina darling I am aware you wish to converse we shall do so on the morrow', smiles to her in a caring fashion.

'Very well Ethie but not before eleven', Mina smiles adorningly at him.

'Ethan this is Mrs Anastasia Grey', Violet introduces Christian now standing by the side of the couch rests his hand on my shoulder.

'Charmed Mrs Grey', deep dark brown eyes pierce mine, he offers his hand, I can't explain why I'm reluctant to shake it, hesitantly I do, unexpectedly my hand tingles.

'Nice to meet you Lord Rochester, my husband Christian', I murmur.

'Pleasure Mr Grey', they shake hands firmly, Christian's eyes darkening, _oh holy fuck_, I see it, they have Dominant traits I glance at Violet she glances at me a fleeting look of stunned realization crosses her face.

'Ours to Earl Hillingham, complements to your home', Christian's tone cordial but hard, _do they see it in each other_.

'Thank you and if not too uncomfortable for you and Mrs Grey perhaps first names for such a social gathering are in order', another brief radiant smile.

'Your party Ethan', Christian grins in a manner he's got Ethan's measure but does Ethan have Christian's, no telling from the impassive expression on his extraordinary stunning face .

'Indeed and high time I had a drink in my hand', no sooner said a member of staff hovers, 'Scotch and soda please Peter', he addresses curtly.

'Certainly your Lordship', the young man replies smartly and swiftly heads for the drinks table.

'Ethan dear friend', Arianna fleets to his side, I stop my eyes from widening, _shit_, that woman's totally in love with him.

'Ari dearest so good to see you, I hear business is booming', a warm welcome but he doesn't shake her hand, no contact in fact.

'Rather and will increase thanks to the creative ideas of Vi', _holy moley_, she smiles longingly at him, Violet shrugs dainty shoulders, _can she not see it_.

* * *

Riddle solved why Mr Grey unnerved, Dom Diddly Dom traits and it wouldn't take a genius to work out Anastasia twigged Ethan has them, recognition in her eyes was evident. I'm relieved because I like her and now don't feel uncomfortable around Christian, 'Ethan old chap', Lord Castleton sidles up, tumbler in hand askew, 'ghastly situation with leaves clogging the shoots of Morton Abbey how goes it in Hillingham Hall'

Ethan discreetly shoots me a look pure devilment while served his drink by Peter, I smile innocently fidgeting with the ring, Mina hot tails it over to Tri and Michelle, 'quite well Richard, I don gloves, climb ladders, muck in, nothing like a bit of sludge', he grins, Christian appears to be holding in laughter, Anastasia disguises a grin, Ari scowls at me, _for Pete's sake you said he was worth getting to know_.

Ethan's back is slapped by Gabe bouncing up bottle of Heineken in hand, 'Ethan mate let me know the next time that's happening, I'll record the event, stick it on YouTube, guaranteed a million hits', they laugh and do the manly hug.

'Of course Gabriel', Ethan slaps Lord Castleton's shoulder, 'Richard you are welcome for a tutorial, I surmise the sight of two Lord's arses up ladders shall gain well over a million hits', a bout of laughter rumbles inside my tummy.

'Golly good show, muck in I will', _oh, God_, poor Richard is delighted with himself, 'but I must request Gabriel the recording device not be high definition, arse cheeks dear fellow, not where they were in my twenties', an audible groan from Mina, another scowl from Ari, Anastasia and Christian's expressions to my mind are, is this person for real, desperately I hold in more rumbles of laughter.

'Bollix Richard, you've a fine arse on you, don't let anyone tell you otherwise', Gabe could barely say it straight.

'Did I hear the gong for dining', Ethan announces tone well straight, 'I believe I did', like magic it emanates lowly from the hall, 'as our honoured guests', he proffers an arm to Anastasia, 'may I escort you', she nods somewhat stunned, 'Christian if you would be so kind as to escort Violet', Ethan adds courteously, Christian nods as courteously, I will the escalating giddy humour attacking me to vanish.

* * *

Mesmerized, Lord Rochester's exceptionally fit body fluidly escorts at poised easy pace to the great hall as if I were a Lady in those classic novels, my arm in his strong athletically muscular one is numb and tingling and I'm acutely aware of his unique almost spicy scent faintly wafting. Searing pain I'm betraying Christian grips, his footsteps behind resonate through my heart.

Glancing back, he's smiling to a smiling Violet, no tension visible from the contact of her arm linked in his, a lump sticks in my throat, 'Anastasia', _oh no_, I thrill and tense at the sound of his voice saying my name, 'I take it by your profession you are a great reader'.

'Comes with the territory', I clear my throat, 'your library is impressive'.

'Thank you, indeed territory, also a most enviable position you are in', his voice purrs low, _what does he mean_, dark brown eyes look into mine speculatively then flicker to amusement, 'privy to the next best seller'.

'Yes', I flush, drag my eyes away they dart to the double height double doors behind the grand staircase.

'Ballroom', he murmurs, his must have followed my line of vision, 'would you care to see it, I am not beyond adding tour guide to hosting duties', tone mildly amused.

My body and curiosity are saying yes, my mind's saying no, 'yes', blurts out of my mouth, I flush again, he halts, turns his head, 'a short diversion my beloved, Anastasia wishes to see the ballroom with your permission of course Christian'.

Tentatively I look at Christian, he grins nonchalantly, 'granted Ethan, once my wife comes back in one piece, ballroom floors can be slippery', tone warning.

'Indeed yes, as well therefore ours has not been recently waxed, your wife's return in one piece I can certainly guarantee', tone totally amused, Christian's eyes begin to narrow.

'Do you want to see it Christian', Violet tactfully interjects, 'no problem putting on hold a starter of smoke salmon, can't get any colder can it'.

'No thanks Violet, I have my guarantee', Christian smiles sarcastically, _oh God_, I regret the blurt of yes, Tristan and Mina join us, Gabriel, Michelle, Arianna and Lord Castleton are only now leaving the library.

'Christian got a question for you, walk and talk dude', Tristan in a friendly fashion ushers, Mina rolls her eyes and flounces ahead to another set of elegant double height double doors on the left that await opening by two liveried staff , 'shall we', Ethan gestures to the doors of our destination, I nod rigidly with tension.

In silence we reach them, he opens one side, a curt bow, 'enter', he murmurs, hesitantly I do and take three echoing steps, stop, amazed at what I'm seeing. A fictional ballroom has come to life, a vast polished timber floor, subtle gilded walls, elaborate lead crystal chandeliers and along the wall facing me are eight sets of elegant French doors dressed and draped in fabrics of sheer cream gossamer and silk.

Lengths of gossamer adorning one set billow from a gust a wind, 'ah...I believe the catch on those particular doors are troublesome', his quiet tone swirls a smile then he strides across the ballroom floor, halts halfway, turns, 'are you well Anastasia, you appear rooted, I assure it is not slippery', his voice echoes, jolting slightly but I am rooted, overwhelmed by beauty.

'It's beautiful', I murmur so my voice doesn't echo, eye widen as he holds out his hand.

'Thank you, come', he says, I can't move, 'you may be interested in the prospect this set of doors affords', a quizzical expression crosses his face, 'I assure Anastasia my intentions are purely tour guide driven', unconsciously I move and bridge the vacuous space between us.

Relieved my elbow not the intimacy of my hand is held by him, he guides the rest of the way, we stand before the doors, my elbow's released, he draws the fabric aside and I stare at a stone paved terrace bordered by a stone balustrade wall. Where they don't join are wide steps leading to a wide pathway between hazily lit exquisite manicured topiary gardens.

My eyes follow the pathway leading to a large lake in the distance that's shimmering in the moonlight, it's one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen, 'Violet told me you host a Mid Summers night ball', I blurt breaking the scenic spell.

'Indeed, next June shall be the eleventh', he lets the fabric drop, 'rather chilly', he adds, _peculiar thing to say it's hardly winter weather_, deftly securing the doors shut he then offers his arm, 'now to dine, for I am famished', a rapid wicked grin parted his lips.

Making our way across the ballroom an intense surge of embarrassment, trepidation and another unbidden thrill surges through me as I realize what he was referring to, my nipples through the silk gown are as taut as bullets. Trepidation overrides thrill and embarrassment desperately I pray by the time we reach the dining room they won't be visible.

* * *

'A good idea Christian', biting the corner of my bottom lip then think for a moment, 'but I suppose compared to what you, Ethan and Tri do sounds trivial doesn't it'.

If not mistaken for a split second his eyes focused on my scar, probably wondering how it happened or he's one of those folk who get queasy if they look at scar tissue for too long, 'I wouldn't say trivial no, a donkey sanctuary is a noble idea, what's Ethan's opinion', he replies in a curious tone then sips his Pellegrino.

Rolling my eyes in amusement, 'not told him yet, adopting a tiptoe through the tulips approach, Ethan's still reeling over the discarded pet pigs we housed until new homes were found a few months back. They ran amuck, caused havoc in the veg gardens and terrorised anything on four legs but being pets they were grand with humans'.

A perplexed expression crosses his handsome face, about to respond, 'Dio mio Vi fainting with hunger, what's the holdup', Gabe pipes up, expression of near collapse hilarious, Michelle giggles. Lord Castleton's not bothered, downing wine like there's no tomorrow, Ari's miffed.

'A tour in session, patience, you're worse than Tri Gabriel, nothing but feed me, feed me', giggling I toss a breadstick at him, he catches it and laughs, snaps it in half and shares it with Michelle, she blushes so sweetly.

'Hey pixy girl, low blow, out of order, I just got a healthy appetite', Tri faux expression of deep hurt is woeful he bursts into laughter.

'You're eating us out of house and home since you arrived', tossing one at him, a shite aim it lamps off Mina's head, curbing giggles, 'I'm so sorry Mina', she rolls her eyes at me in venom, Mr Murray's quick to retrieve it from the floor, Tri's holding in more laughter.

Darting a look at Christian seated beside me, not the happiest of campers, either hungry, finds me a twithead or well pissed off Anastasia's with Ethan, definitely the latter two. But there was nothing stopping him going with them, arrogance and not wanting to lose face prevented him.

Finally tourist and tour guide arrive, Anastasia somewhat flustered, _course...the Ethaneffect...charm the birds off the trees it can_, curtly the gentlemen stand, Lord Castleton in a wobble, Ethan suavely seats her in the chair to his left and gives the nod to Mr Murray, 'Ana baby, good tour', Christian asks grey eyes flickering scrutinizing her closely.

'It's a real nice ballroom Christian', she smiles so lovingly, innocently and adorningly it dissipates the annoyance that was radiating from him, he smiles lovingly in return.

Ethan remained standing, he clinks his nearest glass with a desert or fish fork, no clue, 'ladies and gentlemen raise your glasses please for our honoured guests', we do, 'a sincere welcome to Hillingham Anastasia', he nods to her, 'Christian', a nod to him, 'we wish you every happiness and contentment with Manor house'.

'Here, here', we cheer, Ethan nods to the string quartet at the far end of room, they strike up a melodious classical piece and not only do starters get underway but also cheery lively banter.

Mrs Whitaker and staff have done us proud, the traditional English menu is going down well with the Greys and everyone else, when mains of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and all the trimmings are served murmurs of appreciation sound, 'Violet I was not aware the Estate has a herd of Herefords', Richard slurs.

_Oooops_, he's about to top up his claret from the gravy boat and only halted in time by eagle eyed Mr Murray who pours the gravy for him then tops up his glass from a crystal decanter, Ari's expression at this stage is total disenchantment, 'no we don't Richard that piece of beef came from Hews farm', I inform keeping the giggly edge in my voice at bay.

'Fine piece indeed…..would you not agree Miss Granger', _uh oh_, his tone slurry and flirty.

'As ever there was one Lord Castleton', her reply beyond disenchanted, _no way he's driving home_.

Discreetly I nod to Peter behind me, the youngest member of staff, just turned nineteen last week and has a wicked sense of humour, bending his head to mine, 'please inform Mrs Whitaker Lord Castleton will be spending the night, from his coat pocket confiscate his car keys, if he asks where he lost them, just say you'll look', I whisper, give him the thumbs up, he grins and departs hastily.

Catching Ari glaring at me, "sorry", I mouth, a brief smile implying it's ok then her eyes drift to Ethan chatting to Anastasia. Fizzling out the familiar sizzle fleetingly I wonder will I end up with a tummy ulcer, the string quartet launches quietly into Greensleeves, stopping myself from laughing, this tune drives Ethan demented, glimpsing, _oh yeah_, a massive eye roll of annoyance.

Glancing about, Tri and Mina in loveydoveyland are feeding each other, Gabe, one hand under the table is up to mischief, Michelle's cheeks are flushed, hazel eyes sparkling, 'the beef is good', Christian addresses me, first time since dining got underway, eyes dart to his plate, nearly all scoffed, 'Ireland's also well known for high quality beef or so I've read', he adds with a smile.

'Yeah it is, as the saying goes, forty shades of green, refers to the grass', I smile in return, sip mineral water, not a claret person.

'I thought it was fifty shades', he grins totally amused for whatever reason.

'Maybe I've the saying wrong, hope not, cattle have enough dealing with forty without another ten confusing them', blithering the first thought that popped into my head, he surprises me by laughing heartily, I grin, he's got a nice sounding laugh.

'Violet', the voice that does delicious damage to my insides drifts and I know only all too well the secret grin of lust and desire that briefly graced his lips, he raises his glass, 'a splendid menu my Lady', puce in seconds.

'Here, here', echoes around the table, I nod, beyond puce.

* * *

"_My Lady_", penetrates my ears, blinking, Christian catches and holds my gaze, I pray he can't read my mind's irrational fantasy of being Lady Rochester and having kinky fuckery with a man other than Christian I ever felt I could, a wink and smile I give my husband, an easy none-suspicious smile spreads across his full lips, silently I breathe in relief.

Our conversation at The Ritz seeps into my mind, firmly anchors it and drowns wayward thoughts but not guilt, I continue eating the sumptuous fare, 'my bud Brad Napier hails from Seattle Anastasia, the nights we had in the Baltic Room and Zig Zag, legendary', Tristan smiles, Mina scowls, _she's one mighty pain in the ass_.

Swallowing what's in my mouth, delicious well-seasoned Savoy cabbage, 'cool bars, I like Zig Zag, my friend Kate and I go there on occasion', I smile, unconsciously eyes dart to Ethan, dark pink hued shapely lips chew slowly, rhythmically, 'what bars do you like in New York Christian…sorry Tristan', I blush, he grins, Mina's scowl deepens.

'Molly's hun, Irish pub over on Third Avenue, they got the Guinness down', he laughs, Gabriel laughs, 'yeah dude I know it's not the same as supping it in the Emerald Isle'.

'Tri', Violet's voice floats like a whisper on a summer's breeze, 'Maureen hasn't forgiven you for supping Guinness not Murphys', she winks at Gabriel.

'You're in Cork boy not Dublin only Murphys in Cork', Gabriel and she chorus in a strong southern Irish accent and laugh heartedly, very peculiar the dynamics between them, seems they're a lot closer than they ought to be.

'Cork Anastasia', I look at Ethan, irked by a benevolent and malevolent smile, 'is renowned for Murphys stout, as black as Guinness but in my humble opinion fair smoother, tastier', silently I gulp his tone alone would tempt any woman to bathe in it

'Ethan mate', Gabriel chortles, 'you missed your vocation in PR', Ethan grins in amusement with underlining anger I think.

'When did you have Murphys in Cork Ethan', Michelle asks shyly, curiously, Violet's eyes startled dart to her, to Gabriel then to Ethan.

Tilting his head to one side, eyes darken as black as coal, 'a cold day, beginning of November last year. I entered the pub of Kilnagleary village in much need of warmth for I had just come from Miss Jones Stenning's cosy cottage six doors up after she adamantly refused my proposal of marriage. So adamantly in fact she referred to me as an arrogant controlling fucking nutjob, but as is evident my Lady's opinion changed, she wed me three weeks later'.

'Gabriel you asked Violet to marry you at that time', Michelle's voice trails off in tearful shock, _holey fuck_, minus Christian, Ethan, Mina and Lord Castleton, who appears to be asleep, all mouths gape open, Violet's wiping away tears.

Abruptly Gabriel stands throwing the intricately patterned white linen napkin on the table, holds up his hand to Tristan indicating not to get up, 'Ethan we've done business and been mates for over five years...no more', he looks to Violet and can only nod, 'come on Michelle lets go'.

'You are heartless...you'll never learn to love...your wired wrong', a heart wrenching cry and before Gabriel and Michelle reach the doors Violet reaches them, 'I'm so sorry Michelle, sorry Gabriel', they put their arms around her.

* * *

'No Ethan apology not accepted...get out...I'm leaving tomorrow so your sanctuary suite in your sanctuary home will be all yours again. My advice go back to what you know and do best...a union with a consenting companion housed in penthouse two of RC while you sleep blissfully detached in penthouse one...get out...leave me the fuck alone', I bury myself under the quilt and cry, heart tearing into strips, tummy churning.

'Violet it was a rash not thought through comment', a muffled murmur I hear.

'It was a fucking novella not a comment', I snap and sob, no response

Drawing the quilt down to under my chin, his expression contrite but not enough, 'you've no comprehension do you, besides hurting me you cut to the bone a very good friend of yours, hurt the woman he loves who loves him, who you helped by the way when you fired Hadley. What about Tri, my brother, who you consider a brother, out of respect for your cousin, his wife didn't lamp the, yes, arrogant controlling fucking nutjob head off you. You disgraced us in front of the Greys, only saving grace Lord Castleton was too pissed to know what was going on and finally you let down your longest standing friend and confidant Ari...who loves you, to clarify, is in love with you, always has always will...now for the last time get out'.

'I have done wrong', a bare sound, the beautiful sallow skin of his face turns ashen, what I've never seen since I first laid eyes on him happens before my eyes, his posture slumps, my stupid heart fills with pity and compassion, 'may I request Violet we converse on the morrow before your intended departure issues should be addressed'.

'Sure yeah', is all that comes out, blood well drained from my face, _oh God...I don't know what to do...am I strong enough to keeping going_, I slither under the quilt, slip off the ring and hear him leave our suite, "_love and be love my blue eyed one, follow you heart and dreams Violet"_, tears stream uncontrollably, 'I know Mum...I know...I'm trying'.

* * *

The furnace that is Christian Grey's naked body is wrapped around mine and gladly I appreciate the warmth, gazing at his gorgeous face, strong and cherub like in sleep, long eyelashes fanned on high defined cheekbones, eyes drift and sweep around the elaborate corniced ceiling, 'what a night', I murmur.

Once Gabriel and Michelle left I saw no more of Violet and presumed she went to wherever their bedroom is, a member of staff evacuated the very drunk Lord Castleton, Tristan and a smarmy grinning Mina left the dining room swiftly after politely saying their goodbyes to Christian and me. We tactfully made our leave after our polite goodbyes to Ethan and Arianna, my blood boiled as we did witnessing her eagerly rushing after him stalking to the library like a bull in a china shop.

Tactfully now, not to disturb Christian, I ease onto my side and stare at the antique dresser we sourced in Portobello Market after tea at The Ritz, 'Ana baby', he murmurs arms tighten around me, a hand tenderly grasps my breast, 'why are you not asleep'.

Sighing deeply, 'going over tonight Christian'.

'Their Lord and Ladyship's idyllic world and those you've read in novels now tarnished', his tone bordered on mockery.

'That's not fair Christian, they're real people', I admonish and feel his shoulder shrug non-compassionately, I decide not to ask did he see Dominant traits in Ethan, _no point opening a can of worms that would lead to an argument_, 'so sad hearing Violet say he's wired wrong...he must be a troubled soul', a latter thought escapes my mouth.

'Why the interest in his troubled soul Anastasia, ideas of saving another's with your charms', his voice a low deep growl in my ear, my breast is squeezed to the point of sweet pain.

Gulping turning in his arms, I stare into questioning stern grey eyes, 'no Christian just pointing out the obvious, only troubled soul I'm interested in is yours Mr Grey', I claim his mouth passionately.

'Your all mine Anastasia don't forget that', he groans his familiar needy warning into mine. In this exact moment in time I realize one thing connects Violet and I, we hold the souls of troubled controlling enigmatic powerful men in our hearts and hands.

* * *

Author's Note: I'd like to thank the guests who left reviews, it's my understanding I'm not able to reply to them, but they were very helpful and much appreciated, thank you again. Also I hope I've corrected the confusion in the changes of POV's for this chapter, I've used page breaks as I couldn't get any symbols to work, and I'll go back over Chapters 1 and 2 and do the same. Best wishes to all, happy writing :)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Settled comfortably in our spacious and quite sexy seats on board the First Class British Airways flight making its way back home, I nod my thanks to the stewardess for serving the diet Coke I ordered.

Efficiently but flushed cheeked she serves Christian's Perrier, he smiles his thanks, 'you are most welcome Sir', she replies in a wavering high pitch and swiftly goes to a woman calling for service, I smile rather than eye roll frivolously musing it's the better option otherwise my eyes could one day get stuck mid roll.

'By the time we get home Christian it'll be gone six in the morning, are you going to work or wait until Tuesday', I ask sliding the window shade fully up.

'Work', he drawls adjusting his seat quarter way back, reclines and closes his eyes, 'I want to call Tristan Stenning, he'll be back in NY by nine or ten', I eye him curiously, sensing I am he smiles, 'his stepdad has on the ground experience in Darfur, he's a plastic surgeon, volunteers with Medicines San Frontiers, his knowledge will be useful', my wonderful husband gallantly tries to solve hunger and problems, the familiar vivid image of a starving neglected abused copper haired little boy flashes.

'That's great Christian obviously he and Tristan are humanitarians', I smile.

'They are', he murmurs lazily, 'and business wise Tristan's astute, I'm considering exploring the possibility of collaboration', _wow_, working with someone would be really good for Christian, _Flynn would approve_, Tristan comes across as not only friendly but laid back, easy going, gleefully I smile and look out the window, the night sky is exceptionally clear, stars twinkle bright, through gaps in cloud cover I catch glimpses of the dark inky Atlantic ocean below.

Resting my head against the cushioned headrest I close my eyes, 'you ok baby', he asks quietly.

'Tired...I'll wait until Tuesday to go to work', I sigh.

'Your boss grants you tomorrow off', he chortles I grin.

My mind drifts to yesterday, a peaceful day spent in Manor house discussing plans for improvements, Mr Falkner and his team of three from the property management company arrived in the afternoon, all highly professional, Christian and I have easy minds it's in their capable hands until our next visit. Picturing the beautiful gardens and apple orchard, minus hanging dolls, I think of Violet, not wanting to leave England without saying goodbye I rang Hillingham Hall this morning, a stern sounding woman put my call through.

Recalling the conversation, with obvious embarrassment she apologized, I assured none needed then cheerfully she went on to say Ethan made an apology to Gabriel for publically embarrassing him and one to Michelle, "_all's rosy in the garden, the four of us went to the Fox and Hound last night, Ethan and Gabe made holy shows of themselves by karaoking to Bon Jovi's Livin on a Prayer, everyone was praying, praying they'd shut the fuck up because Ethan's voice is torturous white noise, Gabe's, a cat being strangled_", muffling giggles, Violet's phraseology amuses me but no way can I visualize the Ethan she described.

'Love hearing you giggle Ana, altitude making you light headed baby', Christian laughs light-heartedly, opening my eyes his still closed.

'No...Christian', an unpleasant thought strikes, 'do you regret buying Manor house'.

His eyes open wide expression very determined, 'I don't, we'll make it our fantasy escape, I want that for you Ana, I took what you said at face value and agree', _whoa, go Anastasia Grey_, I grin, he smiles closes his eyes, 'I rang Hillingham Hall yesterday', my eyes shoot open wide, 'polite I thought to say goodbye, spoke with Ethan', _shit_, 'he's an arrogant snob, understandable to a degree, born into the Aristocracy and the British stiff upper lip old boy', he grins in amusement, 'only redeeming quality he's ecologically minded, gave me contact details for a construction company based in Brompton who specialize in grade two listed buildings, as for her Ladyship, more ridiculousness in her than sense'.

Words fail, that was harsh, _there's more to Violet than meets the eye_, Christian can't see it, he doesn't suffer who he considers fools very well, words return, 'Christian I rang Violet, we exchanged email addresses, we plan to keep in touch', my tone pretty defiant.

Another grin, wry, I'm not sure, it was fleeting, 'fine by me', is all he says, my harpy faced subconscious is wagging her finger at me in warning that Christian does see there's more to her but hiding the fact, _I'm ridiculous...for what possible reason...none_, unfair but I take what he said at face value and close my eyes, the low growling of the engines lull me to sleep, barely I'm conscience of the seat being fully reclined and a soft blanket draped over me.

* * *

A pristine first edition book is placed in my hand by a tall dark blurry figure, "_Histoire d'O_", it whispers softly, "_quite an easy task to serve one who cannot love...a simple matter of acceptance_", the blur grasps my other hand, brings it up to a distorted grinning mouth, devil teeth nip the pad of my palm, I flinch, "_fortitude lady...a virtue demanded, for I am adept with cane and birch_", piercing my ears is a loud screeching cry of, "_no_".

'Ana baby', strong arms wrap around my jolted upright body, 'you were having a nightmare'.

'Was I', eyes well up, I focus, see Christian's anxious beautiful face, blink, tears roll down my cheeks.

'Ana it's ok I'm here', so gently he wipes them away with his thumbs, wedges onto the seat and lays us back, I ignore curious glances from nearby passengers and snuggle closer to him, 'what was it about, you screamed no'.

Begging my brain to come up with something, 'a distorted dream about our whirlwind weekend', his expression not convinced, _uh oh_, 'oh...and hideous looking wind turbines in the grove spoiling the view...no matter how much sustainable energy they'll create I don't like the idea', he rolls his eyes amused, _phe_w, and kisses my forehead tenderly.

Spreading the blanket over us, 'a debate for another time, lets shock passengers by sleeping together', his boyish smile causes my heart to expand with love, 'come on baby, sleep', he coos, closing my eyes, inwardly I sigh grateful in the knowledge that nightmare will never return again because it's not mine, it's Violet's

* * *

Trussed up in flannel pj's and fluffy dressing gown sat on the comfy couch in the den, I sip a warming hot chocolate I made containing no added sugar, tired, unable to sleep and totally fucked, 'literally...yeah...makeup sex...whoo hoo', giggling I point and click the remote at the wall mounted flat screen, flick through channels and stumble upon an episode of Fr. Ted.

Watching, laughing and musing on the fact that I love Tri so much but have to admit I'm relieved he and Mina are right about now airborne on Stenning jet one back to NY, yesterday afternoon after one particular sexathon Ethan and I materialised for sustenance, basically thrown together sarnies, Tri had a go at him over Gabriel, Mina put her spoke in and a good old family row erupted.

Smiling proudly recalling what I said that ended it pronto because my arse was making buttons in anticipation of my first time trying my knot skills on Ethan, "_we're going out with them tonight, Ethan already apologised...so let the couple devoid of problems come forth...yeah...Tinkerbelle...VP positions...so zip it"_.

Laughing picturing the wary expression on Ethan's face, no doubt by the forcefulness in my voice and wondering what the hell he was letting himself in for but I surprised him, afterwards told him my fledgling skill started with Gabe when I discovered I had a hankering to try, he didn't explode, in fact eager to tutor, 'learn from the master', I grin.

Startled only momentarily by the door opening Ethan walks in, it never ceases to amaze he doesn't feel the cold, all he's wearing are black silk pj ends, not a goose pimple in sight, 'Violet, you should be slumbering', he sits next to me, arms wrap around me, blissfully I snuggle.

'So should you, it's gone two, you'll be up again at six to leave for RC', I resist a pointless sigh grimly thinking of the long lonely week ahead and twiddle his right nipple piercings to take my mind off it.

'I shall survive', he smiles, cheekily glugs down my hot chocolate, grins and puts the cup on the coffee table, I roll my eyes in annoyance then burst out laughing, he did his funny face which never fails to make me laugh, it consists of him turning his eyes inward so they're focused on the tip of his nose while sticking out his tongue.

'One of these days Rochester you'll be a marvel of medical science with your face stuck like that', I giggle, he laughs, holds me tighter, lovely warmth from his chest penetrates my layers of bed wear.

Gently his thumb traces the scar, 'my love you would inform if you still remain troubled', insecurity rampant in his dark brown eyes, 'utilising your terminology to further the point', a flash smile, 'full on flaming shagfests are great but you've got to have the jabbering for the swirly twirly headmelts'.

Giggling, another thing that never ceases to amaze, sometimes I don't think he listens but days, weeks later he can recite word for word, minus accent, which makes it funnier hearing it in his, 'therefore let us converse my love', lovingly I mock, he grins, 'all's grand with Gabe and Michelle that's the main thing', pausing, 'look Ethan, he was, is and always will be my best male bud, if you're still troubled by that you'll have to get over it or keep it to yourself knowing you've no reason in the wide earthly world to feel jealous, ok'.

He nods, 'excellent advice, which I shall heed', he pauses, 'there will always be a part of me that regrets not possessing the capability of seeing I loved you sooner than I did. For if I had I am acutely aware your relationship with Gabriel would have remained within the realm of friendship only'.

Compassionately I kiss his hot chocolately tasting mouth then rest my head on his shoulder, 'not your fault Ethan, you know and I know only far too well your abandonment fears prevented you', at the mere mention his shoulders and chest tense, 'I'll never leave you, I was upset when I said that, you're the love of my life Ethan and I'm sorry I dropped the Ari is in love with you bombshell but she is, so any thoughts, should we sweep it under the carpet or chat to her'.

A brief hard laugh, my head pops up, I stare at him, 'no apology necessary for the bombshell', he murmurs.

'Not very nice of you to laugh, there's nothing funny about it', I snap.

'I assure I laughed in self-mockery', his eyes flicker intensely, 'yes, blind to the fact she was and is in love with me certainly highlights my defect in full', _oh God_, my worse fear sizzles burning a hole in my tummy, eyes well up, 'Violet what, why are you upset', he wipes away tears as they fall.

'Now you know she loves you...you've come a long way learning how to...well there's nothing stopping you and her going for it...like it should've been in the first place...surely you can see she's...more suited to you', I croak, his kisses my lips softly, his glisten with a fresh batch that streamed down my cheeks.

'Oh my Violet what a thought to have harboured', he shakes his head solemnly, 'upon my word, I love and shall continue to learn more of love with the one person who I would surrender my life for, you my sweet, beautiful, insecure angel', I sink into his arms and sob in total relief, softly he coos stroking my head until they subside.

'There, there, all is well', he murmurs, then sighs deeply, 'Violet I would rather not sweep the issue under the carpet. I shall converse with Ari, with rightful respect for her it should come from me alone', _crap_,I could lose my best friend but he's right, the cards will fall where they will.

'Ok Ethan', I sigh deeply, 'but leave it for a week or so, after supper this evening I rang her, being the day it was she sounded down, she said, Tarquin absconding with her fortune is irrelevant regaining her sense of dignity is'.

'Understandable, very well, in a week or so', he stands, cradles me in his strong protective arms, 'time for slumber my Lady', at an unhurried pace he carries me all the way up to our suite, the motion lulled me to sleep.

* * *

'I'll have that', Kate takes one of the chicken salad sandwiches Gail made for me, I mock scowl, she grins, looks around my office before munching, 'very swish'.

The makeover is still new to me and fantastic, a stylish desk, chairs, a trendy couch and whole wall of cleverly designed shelving crammed full of books, _Gia has her moments once she keeps her eyes off my husband_, 'so many manuscripts came in over the weekend...busy, busy, busy', I grin, I'm fired up after resting yesterday, a sweats and tee-shirt day, when Christian came home from work he donned his, we had a long leisurely quiet dinner and he told me the call to Tristan lasted an hour, they have a lot in common and collaboration is most likely on the horizon, 'so what news are you hunting', I ask.

Kate eyes gleam excitedly as she chews, 'investigating high ranking bankers involved in inside trading, going to nail their asses', I've no doubt tenacious Katherine Kavanagh will do just that, smiling warmly at my best friend the email alert of my BlackBerry sounds, 'one minute Kate', I read it and roll my eyes in amusement.

'What's up', she asks.

'Christian informing of charity benefit tonight', inwardly grinning he ordered I wear the teal silk Halston evening gown, _ready and waiting Mr Grey_, I picked it up from the dry-cleaners on my way to work this morning and is carefully draped over the back of the couch.

'A charity benefit on a Tuesday night', surprised tone.

_Not unheard of but usually these events are held at weekends_, 'that's what I was thinking', I mumble.

'So', Kate's patented inquisitive tone.

'What', hesitantly I reply knowing exactly what she wants to talk about but Kate's curiosity would be too intense for me right now.

'Christ Ana your weekend spent in your surprise stately manor, you've said nothing, we're halfway through lunch', she laughs, _you're halfway through my lunch_.

'It's great, six bedrooms, beautiful gardens, a large conservatory and located three miles outside a village called Hillingham', purposely I kept to a description.

'Tea and polite conversation, sounds boring, your thing I know', _far from boring_, 'but', she grins, 'Elliot and I wouldn't say no to an invitation when you and Christian next go there, shopping in London...clubbing...we might bump into Prince Harry', we laugh.

'Sure, more than welcome...summer next year most likely, we getting work done to it...how's Mia and Ethan, not had the chance to call them', _crap_, or Mum and Ray, should've done that yesterday in between being a couch potato, I'll ring them before going to the benefit.

She laughs surprisingly harshly, 'during dinner Saturday evening they announced they're moving in together, Grace and Carrick are not happy, you missed one helluva row'.

'Oh...understandable I guess Grace and Carrick would want them to marry first', I mumble distractedly wondering why Christian didn't mention what the charity benefit is in aid of.

'Hypocritical of you Ana', _what_, 'or don't you remember shacking up with Christian outside wedlock'.

Blushing, 'course I do...I wasn't being hypocritical...I guess Grace and Carrick are looking out for their only daughter'.

'Are you implying my brother's not on the level', she snaps, _jeez_.

'No Kate, Ethan's a great guy'.

'Ana over one weekend you've turned into a snobby self-righteous bitch', _what the fuck_, is Kate due her period or what, she tosses the remains of the sandwich onto my desk.

'Kate, what's wrong, where's this coming from, you know I'm not like that', frantically I blurt.

'You've changed, it's Christian, he's never liked me and is slowly driving a wedge between us but you're too blind to see it', her tone steely, my mouth gapes open in shock, she gets up grabs her Chanel handbag and storms to my office door.

'That's not true Kate', I call after her, leaving, she slams the door behind her, _what just happened out of nowhere_.

Picking up my BlackBerry I call his number, 'Ana, everything ok baby', he answers almost instantly, I relay the conversation, 'I don't like her but I'm not driving any wedge. Don't let it upset you, she and Elliot probably had one of their spats', _that could be it_, 'Ana don't let it upset you', tone insistent, 'you've got that sexy gown all ready for tonight', _whoa_, a typical Christian Grey subject change accompanied by a tone that clenches my pelvis, flushing I nod stupidly, 'good girl', seductively he whispers, _how did he know I nodded_, 'Sawyer will pick you up at SIP at six', abruptly he ends the call.

Recovering from flushing, 'what's up with this day...Kate went postal...I'm travelling home minus Christian', I shake my head, shake it again in annoyance as the email alert sounds, opening it, _from Violet_, intently I read it and laugh. A friendly communication ending with what I've never heard of before, Kerryman jokes, two, disparaging but funny, swiftly I send a reply ending mine with the only joke I know then drag half my mind to the workload before me the other half thinking of Kate.

* * *

Emerging from our bedroom contented, I rang my Mum and Ray, both well, very well, Ray quizzed on gun regulations in the UK, covertly while talking I Googled the information, he saw right through it and laughed. And my Mum's more loved up than ever but is launching into another hair brained business idea, picture candles, she's bought a thousand plain ones wholesale, set up a website, potential customers email photos and she'll paste it onto one, fondly I roll my eyes in amusement, 'God I hope she uses fire retardant glue'.

With uncharacteristic elegance, swishing the gown I enter the great room and stop dead in my tracks, Christian, seated at the piano is wearing a tight black tee-shirt and those pale well-worn knee ripped jean, my stomach lurches, 'you look beautiful Ana', dull tone.

'What's going on Christian', I ask in a gulp.

'A charity benefit in aid of fifty shades of fucked up', he murmurs eyes blazing with white anger, _holy fuck_, what's brought this on, what have I done now.

'Christian I don't understand', I take a trembling step backwards.

'Don't...try...to...run', his glacial tone freezes me.

'What's wrong Christian, what's wrong', I bleat, tense as he gets up and barefooted strides over, stands very close in front of me, so close I smell his sweet breath wafting down and note the top button of his jeans is undone.

'I want you to indulge me, we can imagine this is a ballroom', he grins maliciously,_ shit…..this is what's been bottled up since Friday night…..oh my fifty, my fifty_, opening my mouth his forefinger vertically presses against my lips silencing me, 'did you honestly think I didn't notice your pert nipples after the tour, if not you take me as a fool', his eyes darken, I shake my head, his finger presses harder, tears spring, cascade down my cheeks, his finger leaves my lips.

Taking a deep breath wiping away tears, annoyed and surprised Christian hasn't figured this out, more surprised than annoyed because he's the master of mind games, 'Christian, a set of doors in the ballroom were open, the air was cold, fact, another, Lord Rochester played a game', his eyes narrow angrily, 'he saw Dominant traits in you, you saw them in him', a flicker of recognition flashes across his beautiful face, 'his game, separate us, judge how you'd handle it, a pointless pissing contest which you won, you kept your cool but not now because your taking irrational insecurities out on me'.

Enveloped in his arms, 'oh Ana I'm sorry, I didn't see it that way...blindly all I saw was how wrapped up seemed to be in him', guilt surges for having wayward thoughts of Lord Rochester that night but easily squashed forever remembering the nightmare that's not mine. My Christian, my husband, my lost boy can love and loves with passion and kindness.

Breaking the embrace, 'Christian I was wrapped up only in the beauty of a beautiful, vacuous house', kissing his parted lips my tongue invades his mouth, ardently he responds, I feel the zip of gown deftly opening, silk slides down my body and pools on the floor.

* * *

My body's entangled luxuriously in the red satin sheet, I wriggle my toes and lean back against the cushioned headboard, bottom cheeks in slight discomfort only, the scent of polish and citrus I've grown to love wafts seductively around the dimly lit Red Room of Pain.

For the first time I notice how flattering the lighting is, my pale skinned arms and shoulders glow with a warm hue, listening to what's playing quietly on the state of the art music system, appropriately Vivaldi's Autumn, it brings to mind the swirling leaves that clung to the windscreen of the SUV as Taylor speedily drove Christian and I to work this morning.

Idly I wonder why Christian's taking so long, 'oh...I should have opted for a glass of Sancerre', I giggle, 'the chances of the kitchen surviving Christian's attempt of making tea are slim to none', giggles continue as I glance about, the museum chest catches my eye, more giggles peel, _the contents are now old friends_, Christian comes in, tray in hand and back kicks the door shut with his heel, 'is that a good sign', he grins, 'or madness, you giggling to no one but yourself'.

'Sign of madness Christian is when I start talking aloud and answer', we laugh.

He sits at the end of the bed, hands me a glass of cranberry juice, 'tea was beyond me, drink the juice first baby then you can have a glass of wine', _bossy fifty_, minus an eye roll I sip thirstily, 'good girl', he adds in a murmur, I drain the glass so I can move on to the delicious Sancerre.

Totally amused he takes the empty glass and hands me the wine then slides up the bed, laughs, hitches he butt up and grabs the riding crop he sat on, 'I can tell you really enjoyed this', a mischievous tone.

'Oh really', I smirk.

'Yep baby because I'm lucky to have my manhood still intact', he tosses it aside and pecks my lips I giggle against his then frown, 'what Ana', his eyes charge with concern, 'you're still mad at me aren't you'.

'No Christian', I lean over the bed, place the glass on the floor and spring back up, 'we dealt with your irrational insecurity in the way we do best, fine by me', I smile reassuringly, 'I upset about Kate, she was so mad at me today'.

Cocking his head to one side in thought, 'I think I know what's behind it'.

'What', quickly I interrupt.

'She's either jealous or resentful of the fact Mia and Ethan are moving in together and Elliot's in no hurry to follow suit. I spoke with him earlier', he rolls his eyes, 'a lengthy family update, he made a glib joke we shouldn't rush out to buy a housewarming gift for him and Kate'.

Now that makes perfect sense, poor Kate, despite her career mindedness deep down she longs to settle down and is so in love with Elliot, shrugging my shoulders, Christian smiles, 'I know what you're thinking Ana but he's not ready and I've got to say if Kate puts pressure on him it will never happen', _shit_, true, Kate is persistent, Christian smiles again, 'why not invite her out to dinner some night during the week, do the girl chat thing', _whoa_, mercurial Christian Grey sanctioning a night out, just me and Kate.

Grinning, 'thanks, I'll ring her tomorrow', about to reach for my glass, Christian gets to it first and hands it to me, I sip, 'how do you feel about Mia and Ethan moving in together', Mia sometimes annoys Christian in a baby sister overbearing way but he loves and is very protective of her, he shrugs his shoulders.

'Needless to say I'll be watching her back but so far I like Ethan, he's serious about his studies and will carve a decent career from them', deeply he sighs, I hold his hand, 'Ana, friends and family when all's said and done make their choices, live their lives. What's important to me is concentrating on us, our choices, our lives', Christian astounds me with his sentiment I nod my agreement and smile.

'Come baby, I don't want to spend the night in here', a mood change, his tone bordered on edgy, 'hold on to the glass', he orders, I do and in a fit off giggles, I and the red satin sheet are swooped into his arms.

By the time we reach the stairs I remember the email from Violet, 'Christian, how do you recognize a Kerryman on an oil rig', I ask muffling laughter.

'What', he eyes me quizzically.

'He's the one throwing crusts of bread to the helicopters', I answer, laughter bursts.

'One glass of wine and you're kerschnickered', a feigned scowl, 'taking advantage of this', he adds in a purr.

I feign a woeful indignant expression, smile then tell him about the email, his expression complete disinterest, he doesn't verbally respond but physically does by playfully pinching my bottom, 'where are you taking me', I ask giddily, at the bottom of the stairs he heading into the great room not our bedroom.

'Kitchen', wickedly he grins, 'what I got in mind baby we need fuel first in the form of tasty Subs', he laughs, I do, Christian has one wacky ironic sense of humor.

* * *

Bang on one minute to seven my mobile rings, same time every night Monday's to Thursday's, 'hi, how was your day', I answer while tossing my trainers across the floor of the dressing room.

'Busy and yours', he sounds tired.

'Usual stuff', I won't say had another disastrous riding lesson this afternoon, Fred our stable manager called it a day nervous I'd end up breaking my neck.

'What did you do my love', he asks as he normally does.

'Read four chapters of Tale of Two Cities which induced a two hour kip then ate practically a whole shepherd's pie', I laugh lying through my teeth about reading.

'What is your favourite character thus far Violet', he muffles laughter, who am I kidding, rarely can I pull the wool over his eyes, I skip from the dressing room into our bedroom then take a running leap and land on our bed.

'Frodo, got the titles mixed up, Lord of the Rings I was reading', I giggle.

'Ah, well back pedaled', he laughs, my heart leaps, 'one moment please Violet', he says, 'enter', he calls to a knock on what can only be at this time of the evening PH1's doors, 'thank you Miss Hunt, tray on the coffee table please', _oh_, Miss Steam Cleaner Hunt, an RC Service Staff employee who suffers badly with the Ethaneffect.

'Any other service I can render Lord Rochester', clearly I hear her chirp flirtatiously I couldn't be arsed eye rolling.

'No that will be all', Ethan's terse reply no doubt has her scuttling in a wary frenzy, 'my apology for the interruption my love, dinner', the clink of cutlery sounds.

'What are you having', I ask in a muffle yanking my tee over my head, get tangled, 'two tics', I drop my mobile on the bed then toss the freed tee to the end of it, mobile back against my ear, 'with you again'.

'Wednesday night special Ceasar salad...Violet what are you doing', tone amused.

'Disrobing dear', I laugh, 'then going for one hell of long bath', _shit_, my arms are bruised, by Friday hopefully they won't be visible Ethan would blame Fred, not me for my absolute inability to stay on a horse.

'Ummmmm...my appetite now is not for Ceasar salad', a salacious purr in my ear.

'Oh my...what have you got in mind Rochester because last time I checked Canary Wharf is in London, unless it magically shifted and replaced Hillingham Hall's lake', I quip.

'My, my, what a sarcastic little angel you can be', he smarms.

'Pot calling the kettle sarcastic Ethan', snappily I retort, _bloody hell_, why am I so angry of all a sudden.

'I see, I wish you a relaxing and pleasant bath Violet, I shall call you tomorrow night, good night my love', he ends the call.

In frustration, temper, and failure that I didn't talk civilly and lovingly to my extremely hardworking husband whose shoulders bear solely the responsibility of keeping everything afloat, my mobile flew across the room from a vicious throw, banged off the corner of the dressing table and landed on the floor, screen in smithereens.

* * *

Temper, frustration and failure still simmering, even after cleaning up the mobile mess and a prune skin causing bath of near on an hour, with the belt of a towelling bathrobe tied tight around my waist I run along the dimly lit path, pass the tennis courts, round the corner of the last one and run faster to the pool house deciding a few laps will sort me out, 'yeah...exercise...happy endorphins', I puff.

Eight done briskly, two languidly, I leave the pool via the stepped entrance, the cool air clashes with my warmed skin from the heated water, shivering I turn into one giant goose pimple and squelch my way to a sun lounger where I dumped the robe.

Shrugging it on, I sit, chin in hands and stare through the floor to ceiling glass doors, that by a mere press of a remote control can move along tracks of some sort, effectively opening up the whole length of that side of the pool house. The dusky view of the slate grey tiled patio, the opened fronted glass structure housing the BBQ and outdoor kitchen blur, along with the Mediterranean style flora and fauna.

Seconds, minutes go by, no clue, the low gurgling sound of the pool's filters are hypnotic, I lie back, close my eyes. and rather than face the fact I lost it because I'm lonely I try to figure out how to start the donkey sanctuary, _oh...I know...hot tail it to Brompton...do the rounds of the vets...and of course call in to the local RSPCA office_, 'genius Violet genius'.

'Indeed you are bar uncalled for sarcasm', his voice pierces my brain, up right in a second eyes wide, he's leaning against the open door of the pool house bar, my broken mobile in hand, _oh God_, expression thunderous.

Meekly smiling as he saunters over, black suit pants hanging low on sensually moving hips, trepidation and lust start a battle in my tummy, 'lovely surprise...did you chopper it or drive...you must have drove, I didn't hear a chopper...if you didn't scoff the Ceasar salad there's shepherd's pie left', thunderous expression not easing, 'or quiche...Mrs Whitaker stuffed one in the fridge for tomorrow's lunch...spinach and ham', _stop rambling_.

Now stood at the end of the lounger gazing down at me, no warmth in his eyes, 'I drove, I ate, what happened to this', he shakes my mobile, I tell him.

'I see', unceremoniously he tosses it in the pool, 'temper, temper, temper', his eyes bore into mine, 'how to assist in such matters...ah...Violet remove your robe, swim attire, commence and complete twenty laps'.

Gulping, 'I've already done laps Ethan, I'm not angry anymore and I'm sorry I was snippy with you when you called', he holds up his hand, my mouth closes.

'Did you not hear me Violet, remove your robe, swim attire, commence and complete twenty laps, now', an implacable tone, my heart sinks but there's no point disobeying, once done, his temporary total-control-mode will be out of his system and we'll be able to talk.

Slowly I get up staring into near black eyes, undoing the belt I shrug off the bathrobe and let it drop on the cream marble tiled floor. Taking a small deep breath I reach up to open the neck strings of my bikini top, 'halt Violet', he barks, with a jolt I do.

Emotion back in his eyes, they scan me from head to toe, 'turn round', he orders, _what_, I do in a stumble, 'good grief', he snarls, hands grasp my shoulders, 'what happened to your back and arms', turned back round he regains his hold of my shoulders, glares down at me, 'Violet what happened'.

_Is my back bruised, I can't feel it if it is_, 'fell off Tilly this afternoon...it's not Fred's...I mean Mr Devon's fault...mine...no balance...no center of gravity whatsoever...not Tilly's either...she goes one way I go the other'.

'Come', swiftly he retrieves the robe, grasps my hand, charges to the door of the aromatherapy room, opens it and practically shunts me inside, 'lie stomach down on the massage table', I do on fresh soft towel.

'Ethan, I'm nervous, you're angry with me', I bleat.

'Your petulance and temper only dear, you are aware both tend to ignite my desire to punish you', a quiet soft tone, I gulp nonetheless, he's searching an integrated cabinet, finds what he's looking for, a bottle of aromatherapy oil Helga his masseuse blends herself, this one's labelled Camomile, Ylang Ylang and Jasmine.

Pocketing the bottle, eyes not leaving mine he removes his Jacob & Co diamond cufflinks, pockets them, slowly he rolls the sleeves of his dark grey shirt up to his elbows, 'my Lady a medicinal massage to bring relief to your bruises', a wickedly seductive grin, 'followed by punishment which shall be', eyes gleam, 'no relief for your ruby jewel until I permit it', I gulp now with wanton lust, this punishment is absolutely mind-blowing.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Palming the keypad, from the row of buttons next to it I press for floor ten, the elevator whirrs into action, as it ascends I mull over the past five months, 'not all good not all bad', I mutter. Thinking of the good, my friendship with Ana is going from strength to strength, emails, phone chats, 'yeah she's on the most intelligent people I've ever met and one of the wittiest'.

Frowning, the not so good seeps in, after Ethan talked to Ari our friendship isn't the same but the upside she's happy, dating a nice guy, Sebastian, a GP from near Eastbourne who has nothing but googly eyes for her, _which she well deserves_.

Thoughts drift back to the good, our first Wedding Anniversary, as is the custom the first year the gift of paper, I gave Ethan the swan I made in the six week origami course I took in the Community Center in Brompton. One of many courses I do out of sheer boredom, also it wouldn't have been tactful working with Ari.

Picturing it and his perplexed expression giggles burst, more like a sheep dragged through a hedge backwards twice than a graceful swan but he placed it alongside the scale model of RC on a bureau in our bedroom suite with pride.

My present, Ethan, not a notion about the custom took me to a restaurant called the Fat Duck expressing he was curious about the owner's scientific approach to gastronomy, 'oh boy was it, atomisers you squirt, dishes like works of art, foam erupting, dry ice wafting', I roll my eyes then smile admitting all the dishes were out of this world.

Smile broadens, two days later we nipped to Amalfi for Gabe and Michelle's quiet wedding and without doubt I know Gabe will be one loving attentive Dad and husband. Little Millie slept throughout the ceremony in his arms, Michelle was radiant, blissful and cried with pure joy when Millie woke during the dismantling of the profiterole pyramid wedding cake and said, "_Mummy can Gabegabe be my Daddy forever_", eyes mist, I urge the elevator to get a move on.

Typically when you want things to move fast they don't, mind drifts to Christmas and New Year, just the two of us, a peaceful none fussy one, bar the village and Hillingham Hall events the Earl and Countess traditionally host. Cheeks flush recalling one whole day during the holidays we spent it in bed, kinkyarsed shenanigans, vanilla shenanigans, eating, drinking, talking and laughing, especially when we pulled a box of crackers between us and read aloud the dismal jokes contained within.

Thoughts drift to Tri focusing hard on expanding Stenning also engrossed with his collaboration with Christian, he explained the project but once schematics and tech was mentioned it flew over my head. Mostly via email they work with the occasional popping across to each others HQ's, but Tri's last trip to Seattle didn't go well. He hooked up with his mate Brad, got shitfaced, diverted to Nova Scotia to extend the jaunt, Mina livid, Tri spent three weeks in the doghouse.

'I don't blame her', _oh, a miracle siding with Mina_, I can't help smiling, she's, blossoming as Myers's really up there executive assistant, positively nice to me over the phone, the doors silently slide open onto the vast chic reception bringing me back to the here and now. Miss Winters Ethan's PA in a flap of shock gets up from behind her desk, I don't come to RC that often, too many memories, there again not all bad, here is where I fell head over heels in love with him, 'your Ladyship, may I assist'.

'No thanks Miss Winters', I grin striding to the grey wall housing the grey optical illusion door, I do the handle thing and walk into his office, no need to close it, magic, it does automatically. Mr Holland's seated before Ethan's block of ice glass desk, Ethan's sat on his side wall behind him floor to ceiling tinted black glass and is sporting a furious expression, looks up, it turns to surprise, 'my love, be seated please'.

I do on the chair next to Mr Holland mumbling a pleasantry, a curt one back followed by a stern nod, 'to what do I owe this pleasure Violet...that will be all Holland', he adds more sternly than Mr Holland's nod.

Waiting until Mr Holland leaves, 'bargain hunting in the January sales for a new umbrella and thought we'd have lunch in the staff restaurant...what was that about', Ethan's unconvinced gaze causes the usual squirm, dropping my eyes I focus on one fingernail, pale pink nail varnish chipped, I stop myself from cracking my knuckle.

Within seconds he's crouching by my side and holds my hand, 'nothing to alarm, spam seeped through, Holland shall put his team to dissecting servers and performing diagnostics', I'm not convinced but he never tells me anything that's going on business wise, 'look to me Violet'.

Intense eyes bore into mine accompanied by a smoky hot smile, cheeks blush in seconds, 'luncheon in the staff restaurant, a rare treat, my beautiful frugal wife as my date', he purrs, lust bubbles but brain engages before I rip the pale grey business suit off him and jump his bones, 'emmm...Ethan can we chat first before stuffing our faces'.

From the chair I'm swept up into his arms and carried squealing to the plush white leather couch situated by the sidewall on the left, as he sits I'm flipped and gently landed tummy down across his lap, 'let the chat commence', his arms drape casually over the base of my back.

This position I like more than not, his groin's hot, skilful happy slappy hands are available and my arse cheeks are acceptingly vulnerable, 'you know Ana and me have become good friends over the past few months', I cock my head back, he's staring at me, 'well I received an email yesterday inviting me to Seattle, a short visit, weekend coming, I'd like to go'.

'What do the Greys have in mind for diversion, Seattle Opera, the Underground Tour, Woodland Park Zoo perhaps', tone bordering on sarcastic, _why is he being such a smartarse_.

'Never knew you were an expert on tourist attractions in Seattle', I quip, a wry grin he gives, 'will you organise with Mr Tyler a jet please and because the Greys have SD I won't have to drag Pam...emmm...Miss Lane with me', I can practically see the cogwheels in his brain cranking, a slow smile spreads across his lips.

'Very well', I jolt from a playful spank to my left buttock, 'j three is not available, routine maintenance, four is currently in Salzburg, j two shall be yours', not bothered, makes no odds to me which one, 'I require j one', _oh_, Ethan never tells me about business but always tells me when he's going away on business and he never does over weekends.

Clumsily turning, I scramble up, held in his lap before I can sit next to him, 'where are you going', my eyes narrow suspiciously.

'My dear while you shall be', a brief smile, 'vacationing in North America I shall be doing so in South, Ipanema', mentally scouring the map of South America, _fuck_, Brazil...sun, sea, sand and hot Brazilian women in teeny tiny bikini's, 'I am in great need of Vitamin D, I believe the sun shall oblige', _the conniving total flaming fucking bollix_, I'm not going to take the bait.

'Sounds brill', I wriggle and hop off him, 'short of Vit D myself but I'll resort to supplements, we'll have so much fun buying each other touristy pressies from our respective destinations…come on…lunch…..I'm starving', _put that in you pipe and smoke it Rochester_, I grin from ear to ear, his expression's priceless.

* * *

Sat at the dressing table I apply a smidgen of lip balm, sigh happily and reminisce over the past five months, along with Manor house, our English getaway, we now have what's going to be our main home purchased, 'we didn't move in for Christmas as we thought', I giggle, 'not long more...worth waiting for', dreamily I visualize the meadow and the palatial Spanish style of the house.

Thoughts go to and ponder on Christmas Day celebrating around Grace and Carrick's beautifully decorated dining room table including Ray who spent the Holidays with Christian and me in Escala, I was disappointed Mum and Bob couldn't make the trip, Bob surprised her by taking her to the Bahamas for a week.

'Poor Mum...the candle plan never got off the ground', looking at the whitewood bedside locker I smile at the one she sent as a Christmas present, a baby picture of me pasted crookedly surrounded by gold and silver barely stuck on stars, I didn't disagree with Christian's warning never to light it.

Thoughts flip back to Christmas Day, after the sumptuous banquet silly Christmas hats on our heads Elliot bullied us into a game of charades, 'go team Mia and Ethan...won by a mile', I giggle.

Cheeks glow hot remembering once everyone was engrossed watching Meet Me in St. Louis, Christian stealthily procured a bottle of Bollinger Rosé and whisked me to the boathouse, licking my lips I can practically taste his Champagne drenched happy trail, 'oh boy…..what a man'.

Giggling again I squirt Chanel No. 5 on my wrists, the scent brings my mind to Kate, her Christmas present to me, mine to her, a bespoke leather bound notebook with her initials embossed in gold lettering. I smile thankful our friendship's back on track after she went postal. Our night out in a nice restaurant called Canlis was all we needed. After three cocktails tearfully she spilled the beans, _Christian was right_, genuinely I felt and do feel her pain, all I could do was advise be patient, she took it on board. Then weeks later a wonderful thing happened, solely she exposed the high ranking bankers and is now considered one of Seattle's most hard hitting and fearless journalists, 'so proud of her', I sigh.

My eyes drift across the dressing table, the snow globe depicting a Beefeater in front of the Tower of London snaps my mind back to the imminent arrival of our guest, grinning, 'I can't wait to see her', lively I get up and make my way to the great room.

* * *

'Ana you're so lovely baby', Christian seated at the piano smiles, a melodic cheerful tune he's quietly playing.

Flouncing the hem of my new Halston Heritage purple silk halter dress I bob a little curtsy, 'why thank you kind Sir', I reply in a giggle then cast a critical eye over our very stylish museum and smile, Gail has it perfect and I'm never not amazed by the Seattle skyline.

'What time is she arriving', he asks tone disgruntled.

'Any time, Sawyer rang two hours ago to say she arrived safely at Sea-Tac', plumping cushions, 'I hope this rain won't keep up for the whole weekend…..oh'.

'What baby', he gets up, strolls smoothly causally towards me wearing his sexy navy suit and white shirt he wore to work today, _jeez, I'm never not amazed by my beautiful, hot, sexy husband_.

'I hope she won't be overwhelmed by Mia's vivaciousness', I express, he wraps his arms around my waist, 'and tenacious Katherine Kavanagh', pelvis tightens as Christian nuzzles my neck fingers sensually circling my bare back, 'hey Grey, don't think you, Elliot and Ethan are going to talk business all through dinner'.

'Can't promise', lips move against my skin, his arousal evident, 'did you tell Gail to make sure the playroom remains locked', I nod in a fluster, 'good girl…..not that anything in there would shock her Ladyship I guess but it's our business', drawing back I gaze into grey amused eyes.

'You really don't like her do you', I quip.

He cocks his head to one side, 'no, give me ten Kate's any day, she's ridiculous, I block my ears when you read aloud her emails', silently I sigh resigned to the fact.

'Ok Christian all I ask while she's visiting is be nice', I smile sweetly, he rolls his eyes then kisses me passionately, tongue invading deliciously, shivers of pleasure run down my spine. Inwardly I groan, our increasing heat and lust is halted by the penthouse doors opening by Sawyer, swiftly we unclench, Christian grinning nonchalantly me sheepishly and together we cordially greet Violet.

* * *

Giving her another hug, Christian in the kitchen is pouring glasses of Pinot Grigio, 'I'm so glad to be here, what I saw of Seattle on the way from the airport is brill, your apartment is only the bees knees', her eyes alight looking at the skyline, 'fantastic...look the Space Needle', she giggles.

'You're so welcome how was your flight', I ask.

More giggles as she accepts a glass of wine from Christian, 'thanks Christian', a curt nod, 'may as well come clean, I don't fly well, travel sickness, puking, tried everything to sort it, nada works but I'm grand'.

Smiling, I pat her knee, 'Christian and I hope you'll have a great time, Mia, Kate, Elliot and Ethan', her eyes dull, 'will be joining us for dinner'.

'Lovely, can't wait to meet them', she looks to Christian now sat at the far end of the couch sipping from his glass, 'thanks again Christian for the welcome'.

'Again you're welcome...how's Ethan', he replies in a friendly tone, her eyes dull further.

'Great...the weather's crap at home so he decided to take a weekend holiday as well, bit of sunshine', a substantial sip she drinks and discreetly looks about the great room.

'Where did he go', he asks, I glare at him, obviously she's not happy about it, a fleeting glare back implying he's doing what I asked.

'Ipanema', she forces a smile, 'promised to bring me back a soapstone carving and I promised to bring him back a souvenir from Seattle, I'll need advice'.

'No shortage, a lot to be found Vi', I grin, a non-forced smile in return.

'Ana said you've the donkey sanctuary established', Christian smiles, _what...so you do listen Mr Grey when I read aloud her emails_, I resist glaring at him while Vi's gives a brief update,

'Are you hungry Violet', he asks in that very familiar tone, _hospitality...playing tit for tat...what...jeez...he's infuriating_.

'No I ate on the plane in between throwing up thanks', she replies bemused.

Christian stands, comes to me, kisses my forehead chastely, 'Ana baby I'll be in my study, you ladies can now start the girl chat that's brewing', a broad grin, glass in hand majestically he makes his way, I shrug off annoyance.

* * *

An hour or so later, the bottle of wine three quarters gone we did girl chat and giggle like teenagers, now arm in arm we stroll along the second floor corridor, stopping outside a guest suite, nerves not tangling knowing two suites are between this and the locked Red Room of Pain, I open the door, 'I hope you'll be comfortable in here'.

She surprises me by skipping in, looks around, 'it's brill', then leaps onto the bed, 'oh sorry, bit rude wasn't I, I just love seeing other people's homes, yours is well class'.

I grin, run and leap onto the bed next to her, we laugh, surprising me again by holding my hand, 'thanks for being my friend Ana', large violet hued eyes show nothing but honesty and trust.

'Thanks for being mine', I tell her sincerely, her eyes hold my gaze, the trust I see in them speaks to me, 'Vi can I ask you something'.

'Sure, fire away', she smiles.

'The dinner party in your home, you saw…emmmm…certain traits in Christian…your husband has them also…I'm sorry such private a thing to ask'.

'Ana no sorrys', she smiles again, my hand is gently squeezed, 'yeah I saw but at the end of the day what difference does it make'.

'None…but don't you find the traits confusing', I ask hesitantly.

'Ah Ana', she giggles, 'I reckon we're in the same boat, padding upstream half the time getting nowhere, not from the fact our respective husbands have Dom Diddly Dom traits, I'd say more from the fact they're mad as snakes', we laugh then sadness grips and swells within, 'I'm sorry Ana I wasn't implying Christian's mad, it's a turn of phrase, my gob sometimes runs ahead of me'.

'I know what you meant', I squeeze her hand reassuringly, my mouth opens, runs and tells of our story, our journey to where we are now and doesn't stop until I said, "_I love Christian unconditionally_".

Tears of understanding run down her cheeks, wiping them away with the backs of her hands she then openly and honestly tells of hers and Ethan's story ending with she loves him unconditionally, tears slide down my cheeks and we hug, a true and trusting hug of kindred spirits.

Composing ourselves, 'you're lucky', she wipes away a sudden single tear before it falls, 'you've got your Mum, I've got Tri's Mum, she's very good to me but it's not the same is it', _so true_, I don't appreciate Mum enough no matter how scatter-brained she is, 'oh', she suddenly smiles, 'some cheery guest I'm turning out to be'.

'Only one way to make up for that Vi', I giggle, 'tell me more Kerryman jokes'.

* * *

'So cool you're a Countess', Mia sat across the dining table chirps excitedly, 'Buckingham Palace, the Royals, have you met them', I roll my eyes fondly, Christian and Elliot are engrossed with final plans for our new home, Kate has mental notepad and pen at the ready and Ethan's engrossed with his cell.

'No Mia', Vi's stifles giggles.

'But your husband's an Earl why hasn't he met them, didn't he when getting his Earl title', unbelieving tone, I give her the eye to shut up, 'sorry Violet, just curious', she adds with a classic Mia pout.

'That's ok...emmmm...the title was given yonks back, passed down through the generations. Once though when Ethan was four his parents attended an Easter garden party at Windsor, he remembers Princess Margaret helping him find an egg under an oak tree', she informs in a quiet voice.

'Golly good show what, I bet was heard all round', Elliot mocks the English accent and laughs.

'Lelliot be an ass somewhere else', Christian drawls, Kate viciously glares at Christian, Mia giggles, Vi pats my knee implying no offense taken, unobtrusively Gail serves entrees of seared swordfish, cucumber sauce and seasonal vegetables.

The conversation shifts to general topics but not for long, 'where did you guys honeymoon', Kate asks, tone full on scoop mode.

'Emmm...wedding night at home followed by two days in Scotland then Morocco for a week, in a tent, in the desert', she laughs.

'Scorpion's nipping at your heels', Ethan smiles kindly, she laughs again shaking her head.

'No but I worried some might be down the ubend of the temporary loo's'.

'What are loo's', Mia murmurs, Ethan whispers in her ear, "oh", she mouths.

'I've been to Scotland, Inverness, where did you guys go', inquisitively Kate asks.

'Aberdeely', Vi mumbles.

'Never heard of it', Kate retorts.

'Kate', Christian looks at her, tone alone has her looking at him defiantly, 'sadly lacking research, surprising the hard hitting journalist you are, her Ladyship is referring to his Lairdship's castle in Aberdeely, Aberdeely castle', tone mocking.

Steely I glare at him, Elliot's about to snap for dissing Kate, Ethan's steadying Mia making a move to rally to Christian or Elliot's side, the jury's out on that, everyone stops and stares at Vi laughing light-heartedly.

'That I was, although poor research on your part Christian, in Aberdeely we're addressed as Mr and Mrs Rochester, Ethan's not a Laird', she grins, I grin, _God yes, Vi has inner feistiness_, Kate and Mina look surprised, Ethan and Elliot also.

'Touché', Christian grins but didn't like being corrected.

'How's Tristan and Mina', I change the subject and place a forkful of braised chard in my mouth, in the background for the benefit of Kate, Mia and Ethan, Christian quietly informs who they are.

'Grand, he, Mina, Cam and Geoff ', again Christian informs who Cam and Geoff are, 'are off to Virginia tomorrow, they spend a month there every year, gives Tri time to go through issues with the ranch', a conspiratorial grin, she leans towards my ear, 'not Mina's cup of tea, I love the horses but it's out in the middle of nowhere, miles from a town or city with decent shopping she lamented over the phone for a good ten minutes', we muffle laughter.

'What are you two trying not to laugh about', Kate asks, my best friend's nose is out of joint, _no one could replace you Kate_, I give her a warm smile, she gives her Kate dazzling patented smile back, 'horses Kate, you know I think they're devil spawned four legged creatures', she laughs heartily.

'Do you ride', Mia asks Vi.

'Dismally', she holds in laughter, 'I agree with Ana, if they take a notion you could be carted off cross country'.

'I'm no rider but is it not the case of wielding control and not sparing the crop', Christian announces tone amused and sarcastic, I flush with embarrassment, his subtle meaning must be obvious to Vi, her expression's impassive, I don't have to decipher Kate's but I've never gone into depth with her as I did with Vi. Mia's oblivious, she and Ethan are discussing color schemes for their apartment and Elliot's wolfing the remains of his swordfish.

'No Christian, wouldn't be wise to do that', she smiles coolly, my heart skips a beat, 'nothing's worse than the sight of horse with a broken spirit', _oh, no_, is Vi implying I'm broken, Christian's eyes narrow, a forefinger brushes across his lips, _shit_, he suspects Vi and I have talked, my subconscious is harpy faced and nodding frantically.

'As I said I'm no rider', Christian smiles sardonically, 'but I agree, a broken spirit is a pitiful sight Violet', _shit,_ Christian's definitely implying Ethan's broken Violet, _oh God no_, her eyes have misted sorrowfully, she doesn't respond just nods, _oh thank God_, Kate missed the exchange otherwise she'd have been on it, she's distracted by Elliot tickling her ear.

'Mr, Mrs Grey, can I clear', Gail asks arriving at the table, Christian and I nod, 'Countess Hillingham in your honour desert is traditional Eaton Mess', she adds warmly.

Like a change in the direction of the wind Vi's demeanour lifts, a broad smile stretches the small scar at the corner of her mouth, the result of being attacked by burglars in her cottage in Cork five months before she married Ethan, 'thanks Mrs Jones, honoured I am, my favourite desert'.

* * *

Ana, Mia, Ethan and I, glasses of wine in hand are seated on the large uber modern couch, heat from the high tech gas fire radiates, Christian's playing the piano, he's good, talented and the look of pride in Ana's eyes is palpable.

Her friend Kate and Elliot left straight after dinner, can't say I'm sorry, I'm wary of journalists but comfortable what I said, if she delved, is in the public domain, if she delved deeper she's be solely disappointed, nothing to be found. Mia's sweet, nosey but only in the glitz and glam sense and regards me as an oddity, so does Elliot and Ethan.

Sipping the delicious wine watching him play, inwardly I sigh, _yeah...I'm not broken Christian...was...whole again...teaching my fucked up husband how to love and I'll never give up...like Ana will never give up on you_.

Imaginary images of Ethan panned on a sun lounger sipping Caipirinha's a bevy of bikini clad beauties flocking around him are vaporised as we clap for Christian ending the piece dramatically by running his finger from one end of the keys to the other. Fleetingly I wonder what the time difference is between Seattle and Ipanema, _Ethan could be conked in his hotel suite dreaming of me_, 'sorry what', I blither, didn't hear what Christian said.

'Do you play the piano', he repeats.

'One song my Mum taught me when I was a kid', _crap, my big gob_, he's gesturing to it.

'We appreciate the generous gift Violet but rules are rules, all new guests must provide entertainment', he grins.

'Christian stop teasing', Ana admonishes laughingly but for some reason there's underlining tension in her voice, 'Vi the gift is a treat, I'm looking forward to a special occasion and break open one of the bottles of Dom Perignon White Gold Jeroboam', she smiles.

_For the craic Violet...go on_, 'you're welcome and I'm all for following new guest rules', I hop up, nip to the piano and sit on the wide piano stool, 'advice though, glasses down, wouldn't want them to crack, I warble to this, mercifully it's short', cracking my knuckles, flexing my fingers obliterating the image of the first time playing and singing this for Ethan, 'here goes, Silent Worship', I mutter, begin the piece and warble as I said I would.

Halfway through I fudge and fumble shocked by Christian stood at the far end of piano joining in with a fine, rich, tuneful voice eyes glued to Ana, raptly she's gazing at him, Mia, Ethan and Mrs Jones over in the stylish swanky kitchen are smiling gleefully, letting my voice trail off I accompany him to the end, applause breaks out.

Ana leaps from the couch, runs to me, we hug, 'omigod Vi you have such a lovely voice'.

Red faced, 'emmmm...thanks, courtesy of my Dad, Tri said he was a warbler of epic portions...you've a grand voice Christian', I add genuinely, he nods, far off look in his grey eyes, _lost on another horizon. _His childhood story sears into my brain more strongly and when I imagine the immeasurable, incompressible cruelties he suffered rightly compassion for him and Ana surge through me.

Sadly I think of my Ethan, a little five year old asking Mrs M when his Mum and Dad are coming home, _oh God_, they did, in coffins after taking a short holiday on their yacht off the coast of Cornwall that ran aground and sank, this very second I want to hold him in my arms more than ever.

Politely I use tiredness as an excuse, thank them, Mia and Ethan, who are getting ready to leave for a lovely evening. Ana escorts to my allocated suite, just as well, the penthouse is huge, corridors with identical doors and my sense of direction is seriously woeful, 'see you in the morning, if you need anything give a knock on our bedroom door, downstairs fourth along, we'll have a great day tomorrow', she grins.

'Thanks, looking forward to it', I smile, she shuts the door quietly, in a flash I'm rooting in my handbag for my mobile, not finding it, 'where the fuck is it', _shit_, I run to the walk in closet and search the two Henk suitcases, 'where it is'.

Running back into the bedroom, 'bollix, balls, fuckballs', I squawk, _Ethan's worried sick_, taking a deep breath, racking my brain mentally retracing my steps since I left home, _how's that going to help Violet...you're in a different Continent_, an urgent need to pee flares, I run into the well-appointed bathroom heart racing hoping Ethan's not losing the plot.

* * *

Anger radiating from Christian is swirling around the great room, he's sat on the couch motionless, 'I know what you've done Anastasia', he annunciates my name icily, 'why did you tell her everything'.

'You wouldn't understand Christian', I bleat, sparks leap in his eyes, fingers steeple his chin, 'you wouldn't', I add in murmur.

'Explain why you think I wouldn't understand you breaking my trust telling a stranger about my life, my history, what is my private business...explain Anastasia', _too singular, his trust, his life, his history, what about my trust_.

'Christian you discussed me with Mrs Robinson', I state.

'That was different, you know that', he snaps, 'explain Anastasia, I won't ask again'.

Gulping, _true_, it was different unpleasant I got over it Christian will have to get over this. Steadily I walk over, kneel in front of him and grip his wrists, his expression implacable, 'Christian, I've connected with someone I can talk to freely who understands, our stories are different but similar', his eyebrow arches in surprise, 'yes, in return she openly told of hers and Ethan's, now there's a strong bond between us. I've not broken your trust Christian because Violet would no more divulge our story to Ethan than I'd divulge theirs to you'.

Deep mistrust crosses his face I tug his wrists but his fingers won't budge, 'what did you do...giggle like schoolgirls cutting fingers melding blood in sisterhood Anastasia', his low growl echoes.

'No...please understand', I reply, he whips his wrists my from my grasp and stands so abruptly my knees wobble and I land on my bottom, staying where I am, I stare at him pacing back and forth.

'You're naïve Ana', his eyes flicker like a stormy grey sea, 'Mrs Ridiculous Ladyship once back in her palace will divulge everything to the Earl, if not already doing that on her cell', shaking my head eyes pleading for him to trust me, he stops pacing and fiercely glares at me, 'and what do you think the arrogant fuck will do with the information...use it against me...you've no idea what you've done...you've given him a loaded gun', he charges to me, yanks me upright by my elbows, his grip hurts, 'so you're going to tell me everything about him...I fight fire with fire Ana'.

'No Christian', I croak, 'you're being paranoid...she's trustworthy, she trusts me not to break her confidence and I won't...I won't Christian...please trust my judgement', a deep cold growl emanates from his throat, he releases me, turns and stalks to his study.

'You'll not be let down', in tears I murmur to no one but myself.

* * *

A wave of freezing panic from my toes creeps up my body as the gravity of what I've done sinks in, _oh holy fuck_, if Violet tells Ethan he could not only publically humiliate Christian but destroy his business credibility. _Oh shit_, Christian's past Sub's holding grudges could come out of the woodwork seeking hush money, Christian shredded the NDA's and insurance photos. Elena would come forward, _shit_, she wouldn't be able to resist the notoriety. The media frenzy, it would never end, our lives, our family's lives would never be the same, I turn on my heel, run and don't stop until I reach the suite's door and knock loudly.

'Come in', a frantic reply, I barge in momentarily perplexed by her clothes and possessions scattered haphazardly about the room and bed, her expression which is anxious which deepens I guess by mine, 'what's wrong Ana'.

Swiftly I go to her and grasp her hands, 'Vi will you promise me you'll never tell Ethan what I told you'.

A hurt expression crosses her face, 'course not...never'.

'Oh Vi thank you', I sigh in relief freezing panic recedes, 'Christian worked out we talked, he's angry', her eyes widen, 'he's angry with me Vi not you'.

'I understand Ana...I can talk to him if you want, take oath if that's what he wants...I don't mind', she blurts.

'No...he'll calm down', weakly I smile, _when, days, weeks, months_, I look around, she does and blushes.

'I'm sorry, I know this looks a bit mad...well not a bit...totally mad but I've lost my mobile, no notion where, Ethan at this stage is probably doing his nut', she blurts again.

'Christian's study houses the landline, he won't mind ', I manage to hide a frown.

'Thanks Ana, once I've talked to Ethan I'll ring Mr Tyler, best all round I leave', an understanding smile she gives, I squeeze her hands apologetically and sigh, _an awkward, complicated situation...all because of one honest, open, heartfelt conversation_.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Now stood before the sleek modern door I curse Murphy's Law, it plagues me more than most. I got a brainwave asked Ana could I use her BlackBerry instead of the landline. While she went to get it I tidied up the mad hatter mess I made, in the process jammed my thumb in the door of the walk in closet and took a skid on the bathroom tiles landing on my arse, the icing on the cake, Ana returned empty handed, she gives the door a light knock, 'what', _bloody hell_, he is angry.

'Christian Vi lost her cell, I left mine in work, can she use the landline', she asks tone placatory.

'Yes', a snappy tone back.

She opens it revealing a minimalist style study, ushers me in, Christian sat behind a large well-organised orderly desk looks up from his Mac, grey eyes practically shooting sparks of steel at me, we walk to and stand in front of it.

Handing me the high tech cordless handset, 'dial one nine seven seven before the number you want to call', he instructs coolly Ana turns to leave, stops, turns back.

'Come on Christian', she says, he's not budging from his black leather chair, 'Christian I'm sure Violet would like to make her calls in private'.

He growls a laugh, 'if you think Ana I'm leaving her Ladyship in my study on her own think again, make your calls Violet', he adds more than snappily.

'Christian', she exclaims in astounded embarrassment.

'It's ok Ana', _no point beating around the bush_, 'Christian I'd never betray Ana's confidence, you've nothing to worry about', he snorts, 'I said to Ana if you want I'll take an oath'.

The vibe I feel, he'd prefer to beat Ethan's story out of me, suddenly it dawns that inadvertently Ana and I are in very powerful positions, the capability of crumbling to the ground the credibility of two high powered business men, effectively destroying their lives, our own, our family's and friend's. _Holy shit_, as well I trust Ana if ever Ethan found out she knows our story his reaction, a million times worse than Christian's I reckon, 'go on, take one, why are you hesitating', his tone akin to a shard of ice.

'Christian', Ana's exclaims again, I nod to her reassuringly then stare at him dead on, he's scrutinising my eyes intensely.

'I swear on my Mum's soul Christian I'll never tell Ethan what Ana told me about you', I state solemnly and hear her sigh sadly.

'Not good enough', coldly he replies.

'Christian what more do you want', she snaps.

'You'll sign an NDA to that effect Violet', he states as coldly.

'You can't ask Violet to do that', she shrieks.

_Does he think I came down in the last shower_, 'wouldn't it follow Christian if I did Ana would be obliged to sign one of my making giving the same assurances', _uh oh_, he didn't like that a menacing expression sets on his face.

Ana's notably nervous, I hold my ground battling an urge to run for the nearest hotel, 'I swear on my Mum's soul Christian I'll say nothing, now can I please make my calls, stay while I do, I don't mind', I manage steadily, a stern warning fuelled nod he gives.

Punching in the numbers fast, while waiting I fidget furiously with the pocket button of my cream pencil skirt, 'Rochester', tone gruff and perplexed no doubt by the unknown number appearing on his mobile screen.

'Hi Ethan it's me'.

'Violet', he roars, _fanbloodytastic Lord Very Angry Rochester_, a rant ensues fidgeting intensifies.

Not able to take anymore, 'for Pete's sake Ethan will you stop getting your boxer briefs in a twist and let me answer', I cut in, _fuck_, Murphy's Law again the button popped narrowly missing Christian's head, Ana and I burst into giggles of pure nerves, Christian's expression camped firmly in menace land was unfazed by the missile, he didn't even blink.

'I am not amused Violet', Ethan snaps.

'I know…I know', cutting dead more nervous giggles, 'I'm very sorry I didn't ring earlier and you were worried needlessly, thoughtless of me, I'm ringing on this phone because I've lost my mobile'.

'I see, regardless blatant thoughtlessness inform why you are stressed', he orders, _fuckety fuck_, I don't dare look at Christian or Ana.

'Ethan no wonder I sound stressed, all you're doing is snapping at me like a crocodile, I've said I'm sorry ok, now I'm going to call Mr Tyler next to organise to go home, nothing to worry about I've picked up a tummy bug is all', my most calm, solid, convincing tone.

'What', alarmed tone, 'Violet heed, you are not to travel the condition will be aggravated further by travel sickness'.

_Bollix_, I thought that was a failsafe excuse for why I'm leaving, 'Ethan puking is puking, it makes no difference to travel sickness, all I've got to do is not eat until it clears my system', _there, perfect_.

'Not a time for your petulance I wish to converse with Christian', loudly he barks, Christian heard, his hand's outstretched, expression now casual, nonchalant even, Ana's and mine beyond nervous.

'Fine', I mumble, hand the handset over, funnily he walks two fingers across his desk indicating he's coming, _oh…..good thinking_, Ethan would be suspicious why Christian is present while I'm calling, after the appropriate length of time he puts the phone to his ear.

'Ethan', tone nonchalant, he listens for a few moments, 'no, dehydration's not an issue...yep bottled water not faucet...rest assured I won't let her set one foot outside the penthouse', he grins, _what?_

_What's Ethan saying now_, Christian's listening intently, 'fine by me Tristan talked to you, you've had business dealings in South America we haven't', he fires up his ipad, _so Ethan disguised a business trip as a holiday...of course...to play tit-for-flaming-bloody-tat_, 'yep...give me a detailed overview of the Company', Christian waves indicting for us to go, we do, eye rolling in annoyance leaving the CEO's to it but at least our nervous dispositions have eased.

* * *

Deciding on a well needed tea, 'mercurial or what', I murmur watching the kettle come to the boil.

'Yeah and they say women are changeable', Vi huffs searching for cups, I point to the cupboard on the left, 'if it turns out though they get on business wise, in time they might have one of those bromances for themselves, tell each other their stories, do their own NDA's…..we'd be off the hook Ana'.

'We sure would', I sigh grabbing from another cupboard the bag of double chocolate amaretto cookies Gail kindly picked up in Cow Chip Cookies yesterday, 'I'm really sorry you swore on your Mum's soul and Christian was wrong suggesting an NDA'.

'Don't give it another thought', she shrugs her shoulders, a troubled expression creases her forehead.

'What Vi', I ask concerned.

'I'd hate for you to think I was a smartarse turning the tables on you regarding the NDA, I had to, it wasn't a level playing field, Christian's knows we've talked, Ethan hasn't a clue'.

'Hey, I'd have done the same if the other way round', we hug, 'I trust you Vi'.

A relieved smile she gives, 'I trust you Ana', a sudden giggle, 'and I'm sorry I nearly took your husband's eye out with my button', we burst into giggles, residual nervous tension within dissipates.

We bring the tea and bag of cookies over to the coffee table, sit on the couch and tuck in, I think about what Vi said, 'I don't hold up much hope Christian and Ethan will have a bromance and fess up', I mumble with my mouth full.

'You're probably right, not the most trusting of folk are they...who can blame them I suppose', she mumbles with hers full.

_True, so true_, such different upbringings and stories yet they possess some of same characteristics, curiosity niggles, 'Vi do you think Ethan's fear of abandonment led to his Dominant traits, what I mean is, an outlet to cope with unresolved grief from the loss of his parents', she surprises me by laughing.

'I don't, those traits are what they are, facets of his sexuality if linked to anything I say his natural leadership and control. Ethan's fear of abandonment caused an inability to give and receive intimacy, recognise love and how to give it back', biting the cookie she inclines her head, chews, swallows, 'I always think it's funny it wasn't until our wedding night we slept, as in sleep, and lip kissed for the first time, in an odd way that's romantic'.

'How were you sure he'd be able', I ask curiously.

'I wasn't, well not a hundred percent, it went grand, no vomiting', _what_, my expression confused, she smiles, 'Ana, Ethan described what such intimacies feel like for him, claustrophobic nausea punching and gnawing his gut. I equate it to a sensory perception gone haywire, you know...like some people can't bear the feel of cotton wool...some, sand between their toes...stuff like that'.

_Wow_, personally I wouldn't have married a man who feels physically sick kissing and sleeping with me, reflecting on Christian, 'it took months, months that seemed like years for Christian to be totally comfortable with me touching, stroking, kissing his chest and back', my eyes mist, the pain and compassion I felt and feel to this day swell within, 'his scars Vi...always there...always a reminder', I stem a sob.

Putting her cup on the coffee table she holds my hand, 'a permanent reminder yeah but how you and Christian look at the reminder is the key isn't it', she lets my hand go and touches her scar, 'personally I see this as a talisman, it shows me I was strong yet again, didn't fully go to pieces after the burglary, Geoff offered to correct it, I declined', _what does she mean by strong yet again_.

She looks deep into my eyes with uncertainty then nods assuredly and before my eyes gathers up the hem of her pale green cotton blouse exposing the side of her braless left breast. Blinking twice in shock, an ugly purple greyish scar curves around the base as if someone tried to cut off her breast, 'talisman number two, not deep, superficial but nothing surgically can be done to pretty this up, doesn't bother me', we're startled sensing a presence, hurriedly she drops the hem.

Christian a few feet away is standing statue still staring at Vi, expression unreadable, _how long was he there...did he see...hear our conversation...did Ethan do that...Gabriel...who_, 'Christian it's late...nearly midnight...Vi and I are having tea before bed', I blurt.

It was slight but he shivered, 'I'd like a cup Ana', a very quiet tone, he comes to the couch and sits, his eyes follow me as I go to the kitchen. Once I switch the kettle on he looks at Vi tentatively rubbing her wedding ring tattoo looking anywhere but at him.

'Ethan's concerned for you and your fictional tummy bug, he'll be arriving in under sixteen hours', he tells her in a low murmur placing the button of her chic skirt on the coffee table, she beams then frowns warily, 'did Ethan do that', he asks in such a commanding tone she jerks.

'No', she shakes her head, 'I frowned because I'll have to eat a shitload of gone off meat to get a tummy bug before he arrives...oh you said sixteen hours...that's ok so, I can say it cleared up...I'm sorry Christian I thought the excuse would work and I'd be out of your hair...we'.

'Don't fucking lie to me Violet', angrily Christian roars silencing her, my mouth gapes open.

Vi's expression goes from confused fear to incredulous, 'you honestly think Ethan did that...what do you take him for...a total nutjob. My first and only ever boyfriend did that...who was...a misogynist dickhead to be more precise. That's how I know Christian there's nothing worse than the sight of broken spirit, be it horse or human'.

Gripping the cup I'm holding tighter stunned,_ I wasn't expecting this_, an expression of acceptance crosses Christian's beautiful face, 'ok sorry for assuming it was Ethan', he murmurs.

She sighs heavily, 'apology accepted Christian'.

* * *

'Can you believe it', I murmur for the umpteenth time hanging up my dress in our walk in closet. Popping my lacy thong into the laundry basket I look to Christian searching in a drawer for a tee-shirt, he looks at me.

'I can but I don't trust her', he states, not perturbed I'm totally naked, I stride over, stand in front of him and glare up at him.

'After all that you don't trust her', I state in disbelief.

'No, she didn't reveal that story when giving it up to you did she', he points out glaring in return, 'don't get me wrong, a shitty experience, for that yes I pity her'.

An angry countenance is added to my glare, 'Christian, Vi told of hers and Ethan's relationship only', I relay the conversation that lead to her revealing the scar, an expression of contrition crosses his face, my eyes roam sadly over his chest anger melts away. Tenderly I touch one scar, 'she made a good point, talismans, we are strong Christian', I touch another, another and another eyes welling up.

'Stop', he grasps my hand, _oh no please...please...not fifty steps back_, I stare into his flickering grey eyes, 'Ana I don't trust people, I use my skill of getting inside their heads and work out how they tick, served me successfully in the past and will in the future', he closes his eyes pausing.

They open and gaze deeply into mine, 'my Ana, my deciphering skill failed where you're concerned and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm not successful with Violet either and I don't like that', he takes a deep breath, 'but I'll trust your judgement regarding her trustworthiness as best I can'.

_Oh my fifty...my fifty...what a milestone for you_, 'I love you Christian, you've no idea how much of a relief that is', I cry and launch myself at him so forcefully he has to steady us, 'make love to me Christian...make love to me now', urgently I whisper.

'With pleasure Mrs Grey', full luscious lips grin lustfully, before I know it I'm scooped up into his arms and he's charging to the bed.

Tossed onto it, landing with an outburst of heady laughter, 'spread them baby', he purrs whipping off his tight white boxer shorts, _oh boy…..what a sight_.

* * *

'First stop Pike Place Market', I grin, 'Kate and I apartment shared near there, I'll point it out on our way'.

Vi crouched tying the laces of one Nike Dunk Low Pro SB "Paris" trainer laughs, 'I saw the market on an episode of Frasier, the fish lamping past Niles's face, totes hilar'.

Zipping up my Canada Goose, Yuki Expedition jacket, 'I remember that, Frasier Crane Day, Frasier nearly combusting over his suede shoes', we laugh, Vi shrugs on her trendy Barbour jacket, 'Sawyer and Prescott will be with us, Taylor's gone to visit his daughter for the weekend', I inform, she nods.

'Mrs Grey', Gail calls from the kitchen, 'I was thinking seafood chowder for lunch, is that ok'.

'Great thanks, Vi and I'll pick up fresh rolls', I smile, Christian sheaf of documents in hand strides from his study, _oh my_, all cool and casual, white linen shirt and tight navy jeans.

'Ana where are you going', he asks continuing to the kitchen.

'Sightseeing, shopping, we'll be back for lunch'.

Placing the documents on the breakfast bar, curtly he nods to Gail, looks at us, 'no, you heard me say to Ethan I won't let Violet set one foot outside the penthouse, find something else to do until he arrives', a tone that's not to be argued with.

Vi shrugs her shoulders in resignation, Gail has the hear nothing see nothing expression on her face, 'ok, we'll watch TV for six hours', I retort, he smirks.

'Series one to three of Frasier', Vi mumbles under her breath, we burst out laughing, Christian rolls his eyes suppressing mirth.

* * *

Numerous episodes and the very tasty seafood chowder lunch later, Vi and I are back in the TV room, 'I can't handle the next series can you'?

'As funny as they are, no', she smiles the scar stretches, I can't help visualizing the hidden one beneath her long sleeved plain pink tee-shirt, 'you're thinking about that scar', lightly she laughs.

'I am, sorry, it's just incomprehensible', my voice trails off.

She picks up a cushion, wraps her arms around it, 'it is...there's no point I know but sometimes I wish I'd seen it coming. Ryan up to that was only mentally abusive, Violet I'm your boyfriend because no one else would have you. Violet you're as thick as two short planks, Violet don't smile you look like an imbecile', she grins ironically, 'examples of the tamer things he said and him being my first ever boyfriend I hadn't a notion that wasn't right, nothing to go on. Of course I remembered the advice my Mum gave me, love and be loved, thought that was it'.

'Oh Vi', I hug her, the cushion squashes between us, 'you're Mum would've been so proud you and is', sorrow sweeps through me as I think that at the tender age of eight her Mum died of sudden cardiac arrest and she spent her life until eighteen in an orphanage in Wales.

Vi's not told me the circumstances why she and her Mum moved to Swansea from Dublin when she was six months old. I guess it's got something to do with hers and Tristan's Dad, I'd never ask. Over the past five months she's never mentioned her Dad but obviously he had an affair with her Mum, _gosh_, sure says a lot about the good person Cam is, unconditionally accepting the illegitimate child of her deceased husband.

'What are we like, wallowing', one of her change in the direction of the wind smiles that has the ability to lift not only hers but my spirits, 'we're Frasiered out...what about a movie, what movies do you like'.

Scrunching my eyes in thought, 'The Piano, Pride and Prejudice with Keira Knightley, Jane Eyre played by Charlotte Gainsborough...I'm a sucker for those period films more for the books, what's yours favourite movie'.

'Shawshank Redemption and White Chicks, poles apart', she laughs, 'and for educational purposes, for the proper way things are done, I've started watching Downton Abbey'.

Our creased over laughter is interrupted by an unannounced but not unwelcome visit by Mia entering the room with too many designer shopping bags to count, 'hi Ana, hi again Violet...Rainier Square I've never seen it so busy on a Saturday afternoon', she exclaims and sits with us.

'Hi Mia', we greet.

'Christian said you're not feeling well Violet, I bet it's spoiling your vacation', an empathizing smile she gives Vi.

'I'm grand, not spoiling a thing, all better in fact', Vi smiles fondly then slyly winks at me unseen by Mia, I stifle giggles.

'Wine Mia', I ask, 'may as well live it up a little'.

'Oh yes, Ethan's nose is buried in his text books, he won't realize I'm not in the apartment', she laughs, hopping up I leave the room hearing Mia chirp to Vi about a Louis Vuitton logoed waffle maker of all things, giggling I make my way to the kitchen.

Rooting in the fridge, 'why not', I mutter deciding on one of the bottles of Dom Perignon White Gold Jeroboam Vi gifted.

Christian comes up behind me, kisses my neck, 'Champagne girl party...I'll bring it in for you baby, might throw in a bowl of popcorn', turning to face him my eyebrow well arched, he grins taking the bottle from my hand, 'Ana I can manage microwave popcorn'.

Pecking his lips, 'ok, thanks honeybun', I chirp side step around him, caught and held tight in his arms, a long, slow, deep, lust inducing kiss he gives me, breathless, flushed, 'hop to it Grey us girls are waiting', I pant.

Scooting from his arms a snappy spank lands on my bottom, I giggle all the way back to the TV room.

* * *

Bottle empty, halfway through another, only un-popped kernel's left in the bowl. MTV's blaring and Mia, Vi and I are singing along to Kelis. Christian pops his head around the door, checking on us, 'my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard...and their like...it's better than yours...damn right it's better than yours', we sing at him in varying keys and octaves, rapidly he retreats, we burst out laughing.

'Oh Ana...Vi...I wasn't quick enough with my cell to record that...my brother's face...we repelled him', Mia whoops and slurps from her empty glass.

'It was I who repelled him...I and my horrendous voice', I announce in a fit of giggles.

Vi stands, 'I hereby declare, you Ana', she waves her arm theatrically, 'you Mia', another wave, 'and me are the ultimate girl band in the world with the talent to repel all who hear us...crap...bursting to go to the loo', we laugh, she steadies a stagger as she leaves.

* * *

Crossing the expansive living room humming the song, I reach the stairs, jog to the top which did my bladder no good.

Hurriedly walking along the corridor mind telling me it's paramount I finally decide whether I prefer Maccy D milkshakes or Burger King's, I open the door of the suite and walk in, _no...can't decide...further testing...but deffo not strawberry...hive outbreaks_, audible giggles evaporate, _holy fuckballs_.

Seconds, minutes go by, not sure, stepping backwards I turn and go slap bang wallop into Christian who grasps my shoulders before I land on my arse, 'sorry...I got the doors mixed up...all identical...might be handy if they were labelled in some way', _shut up...shut up...you idiotic_.

He tilts his head to one side, glares at me, 'any suggestions Violet', he asks surprisingly in an amused tone.

'Emmmmm...suite one...two...three...keep it simple', I blurb.

'But this is not a suite, it's a room', he smirks and seems to be waiting for an answer.

'So it is...emmmm...resident's only alternative gym', _and buy a fucking lock and key...and get your hands off my shoulders_.

Taken aback he laughs thoroughly amused, 'not the worse suggestion I've ever heard', _delighted for you_, 'nothing in here shocks you'.

'Not in the least', I blurb again.

'One similar at home', he asks airily.

'None at all, Ethan designed a desk, glass top, chrome hydraulic legs, inlaid all over with platinum rings, can be set into any position imaginable, which eliminates the need for numerous apparatuses, add platinum shackles, lengths of platinum and clasps...Bob's your Uncle...sorted', _why the fuck did I blurt that...because your off your trolley on Champagne Violet_.

'Interesting', he murmurs, I think he genuinely is, _holy...fuck...of...all...holy...fucks_, from nowhere Ethan, Mr Cleary and Mr Sawyer loom large behind him.

'Unhand my wife', Ethan's growl so threateningly dark thunderous eyes darting about the room I feel faint, Christian does, I sway, before lights out vaguely I hear Ana screeching.

* * *

Holding my tummy projectile vomit splays the loo bowl, I groan miserably. A bunch of tissues are shoved into my hand, 'how could you be so reckless Violet', he hisses and sits on the bathroom floor next to me, 'consuming alcohol when poorly', _oh God_.

'Sorry, I felt better this morning...had breakfast...and lunch', I whimper, heave, retch and release another load, a comforting hand rubs my back his other ensures my ponytail is out of the way. Bile of pure anxiety pumps out, 'there, there angel', he coos, 'all is well, as the saying goes, better out than in'.

Completely empty, drained, tissues pressed against my mouth I crawl onto his lap, arms wrap around me, I hold my breath waiting for the inquisition mind in a swirly twirly headmelt and remembering hearing Ana screeching.

'Violet', _here we go_, 'your sensibilities astound consuming alcohol so soon after feeling well, vastly irresponsible. Regarding the situation you found yourself in', _oh shit_, 'I forbid you in any way to feel embarrassed, not your fault the Grey's cannot keep their entertainment room locked. Good grief what a spectacle but as another saying goes, to each his own', glibly he laughs.

I don't give a flying fuck what Ethan thinks of the room, it definitely wouldn't be clever to say I personally thought it was atmospheric in a kinkyarsed Victorian way or clever to tell him I blurted to Christian about our desk, _bloody hell...surely Christian wouldn't mention it_, 'I'm sorry about all this Ethan...you must be tired...all the travelling', I blither from behind the tissues.

A deep sigh resonates in his chest, 'I am not fatigued. No apology required my love, suffice to say I am adapting to the fact there are never any dull moments with you and I would not have it any other way', he cuddles me.

Sighing in relief only now I notice he's clad in a plain white tee, white boardshorts, cool black leather flip flops and his beautiful flawless sallow skin is slightly tanned, 'freshen up my darling, politeness led me to accept your hosts invitation to dine before departure', an insistent tone, _oh no_.

'Ok', I mumble, forbidden or not, embarrassment, trepidation and tension rumble through me.

* * *

'I'm sorry', palpable wariness in her tone, 'while cleaning Jason rang, Sophie fell in the playground on his watch. So worried I forgot to lock it, he rang half an hour ago she's fine, sprained ankle but his ex-wife's causing waves'.

'It's ok Gail these things happen', Christian says kindly, I hug her in support, 'take the rest of the weekend off', he adds.

'Thanks Mr and Mrs Grey', swiftly she makes her way to her quarters.

Turning to Christian, 'nicely done Mr Grey, you're a good employer', he shrugs his shoulders hiding a bashful smile, 'did Mia get home ok', I ask, he nods.

Inwardly laughing, once she saw Ethan being shown into the TV room by Sawyer, which snapped me back to sobriety, "_I'm hallucinating...someone as handsome as you couldn't be real...why are you wearing swim shorts...I know...you're a demi God from Atlantis_", she slurred and followed him as he charged back out muttering, "_good grief_".

By the time Gail came to my rescue, took charge of her, Ethan, his SD and Sawyer were bounding up the stairs, I followed, frantically worried Vi in the drunk state would blurt something to Ethan, _jeez_, wasn't expecting what I saw. Vi shocked, Christian totally amused then she fainted, only for Ethan catching her she'd have struck her head against the corner of the bed, Christian tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear, 'you ok baby'?

Vividly picturing the livid expression on Ethan's face carrying her to the suite, 'I thought Ethan was going to kill you Christian'.

He roars with laughter, 'by bitch slapping me with his flip flop, fuck Ana, I'd take Ethan down, kickbox his ass and Sawyer would've nailed Cleary'.

'Christian, you were holding his drunk wife's shoulders in our playroom', I point out, his expression too blasé, I grin mischievously, 'you didn't listen when I read aloud one of Violet's emails. Ethan's a Master Classical Fencer, whoop your ass with his flip flop like Zorro', a throaty disgruntled growl escapes his lips, _oh the fragile male ego_.

A mischievous grin parts his lips, 'what are you going to do for dinner Ana, no Gail'?

Narrowing my eyes humorously, I reach up, grasp and tug his just-fucked-tousled hair, 'I'll surprise you...kiss me Grey', a hot smouldering mouth nears mine, flutters quicken inside with anticipation, a cough, my head snaps round to the sound.

Ethan, arms folded, hip leaning against the back of the couch, legs crossed is smiling benevolently and I can't deny the five o clock shadow on his stunning face accentuates his beauty, 'pardon the interruption', his voice silky smooth, subconsciously releasing Christian's hair, he wraps his arms around my waist casually, 'may I be forward and request a hot beverage for Violet'.

'Is Vi ok Ethan', I ask apprehensively acutely aware I've got to watch my p's and q's around him, if he even gets a hint I know his story, _holey moley_, not a pretty picture I guess.

'Quite', he replies in a clipped tone, dark eyes regard me intently, briefly, I get the feeling he was vividly associating me with the contents of the Red Room of Pain, irked and embarrassed my cheeks redden.

'Our housekeeper is on personal leave Ethan', Christian's tone friendly but not bosom buddies, he points to the kitchen, 'a case of help yourself'.

'And what a charming kitchen it is, I admire the craftsmanship, it shall be a pleasure to help myself', a wide grin and even though he's wearing beach wear with elegance he strolls to it , 'may I fetch you both a beverage', he asks arching an eyebrow.

'No thanks we're good', Christian answers indifferently.

_Shit_, I've got to prep for an early dinner their jets are on standby to leave in a few hours. Mumbling as much under my breath, Christian kisses the tip of my nose, 'hop to it baby', and grins, _oh great...carefree devil make hair fifty_, I roll my eyes and stalk to the kitchen hearing his muffled laughter.

'Sorry I won't get in your way', _why did I say that, it's our kitchen_, Ethan switching on the kettle gives me a sideways smile, Christian's strolling to dining table engrossed with his BlackBerry, 'as you're there Christian set the table', bossily with nerves I tell him.

'Yep', he grins, makes no move to do it, instead makes a call.

* * *

Busying myself at the sink washing potatoes deciding there's plenty of time to prep and cook the newest dish I've accomplished, Moussaka, I note with very little trouble in an unfamiliar kitchen Ethan has the tea made and is bending over replacing the carton of milk to the lowest shelf of the fridge where it's kept.

I double take, between the hem of his tee-shirt and waistband of his shorts the base of his back is visible, there's the start of a tattoo right on his spine, _whoa...Lord Bad Boy Rochester_, he straightens up, turns, looks at me, 'you make a study of me Anastasia, for what purpose', quietly he asks, _holy fuck_, how did he know I was looking.

Flustered, 'a habit of mine, watching people cook', _oh that told him Ana_, he doesn't respond, his eyes, not from peripheral vision more like they sensed her go to Vi sombrely making her way to the breakfast bar looking worse for wear, 'is all well my love', he asks concerned when she reaches the nearest stool.

'Yeah besides the fact my brain is cream crackered', dully she replies looks at me, blatant embarrassment written across her face, "_don't be_", I mouth unseen by Ethan, unless he's got eyes in the back of his head, she smiles a thankful smile.

'Sit dear, drink this', so lovingly he tells her, Christian strolls over and sits on the barstool next to her, hesitantly her eyes dart in his direction, _crap_, Ethan saw that,_ is he picking up vibes...no...he's doesn't want her to feel embarrassed about Red-Room-Gate either_, best to ignore the big pink elephant in the great room.

'Ethan spoke to João Eduardo, his Company's got the expertise but he wasn't enthusiastic', Christian's tone not impressed, 'Ana baby get me a bottle beer please', he adds with a smile.

'Ethan would you like one', I ask.

'Thank you yes Anastasia', a polite absent reply he's gesturing to Vi to drink the tea, she does as she's told.

Bringing the uncapped bottles of Men's Room Original to the breakfast bar, 'is this a local beer', Ethan asks, Christian informs it is, 'excellent', he smiles then looks at Christian speculatively, 'João Eduardo can be a prick. My advice let him to stew. The chink in his armour is he fears a competitor will swoop in while he sat on his laurels hedging his bets. I would be very surprised if you do not hear from him within forty eight hours'.

Watching Christian gauging Ethan's advice, 'I'll consult with Tristan', he states dismissively effectively closing the lines of communication, Ethan nods in a suit yourself fashion.

'What am I like not helping you Ana', Vi hops off the stool.

Opening my mouth to tell her no need, 'Violet', Ethan interjects, 'not my intention to disparage but in your condition perhaps more hindrance than help therefore Anastasia if I may I shall assist', instant trepidation surges within.

Vi giggles, 'Ana, Ethan's right and what he politely didn't say is I'd wreck the kitchen, tea, sarnies, food in boxes and packets are my forte. Ethan tried to teach me to cook several times and didn't go all Gordon Ramsey on my arse'.

Ethan laughs, 'what a recommendation', he winks at her then bows to me in a flourish, 'your personal sous chef with a civil tongue in his head at your service Anastasia', I laugh curbing nerves, Christian's laughing, _whoa_, expression confidently willing me to accept, _ok...Ana...you can do this...just keep your guard up_.

'Great Ethan, sous chef you are', I reply evenly, Vi disguises a nervous expression.

'Not one to shirk a challenge so I'll take on board a hungover assistant for table setting duty', Christian grins mischievously, Vi's eyes flash with caution, Ethan's expression impassive but his eyes are flickering in amusement, _one helluva invisible gauntlet was thrown down_.

'I deffo fit the brief', weakly she smiles, 'ok I'm up for it, perhaps rattling cutlery might drown out the twenty drummers in my head'.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Ethan slips his cell into the pocket of his white swim shorts then lodges a Motorola H9 wireless ear bud into his lobe, 'I do apologise Anastasia if interrupted, needs must', he informs.

'Sure, are you of the school eggplants should be salted', I ask pointing to them in the vegetable rack while eyeing Christian and Vi studiously setting the table. They're chatting, Vi seems relaxed, _great, once Christian gets to know her he'll see for himself she's trustworthy…..whoa_, my harpy faced subconscious is actually smiling in agreement.

'The aubergine salt brigade', he replies selecting a knife from the block, for a split second I think how funny it would be if he assumed a fencing stance and said En Garde, 'Head Chef shall we be daring add courgettes to Moussaka', he asks playfully, I laugh, _gosh_, this is a different Ethan to the one in Hillingham, maybe I should practice what I preach, get to know him, the harpy scowls, _I can still keep my guard up_.

'Never had zucchini in Moussaka before, why not, go ahead sous chef', I grin and rinse the peeled potatoes to rid excess starch.

'Rochester', I jolt slightly as tersely he answers an incoming call, the device in his lobe flashes blue.

While listening he deftly cuts two large eggplants into thin slices, moves onto a zucchini, 'Hodges the problem in the contract put forward is on page sixty nine, appendix one point five, too loose to their advantage. Enforce its tightening for mine thereafter upon your return from Salzburg peruse your employment contract for I am not in the habit of carrying deadwood, that will be all', so direct, stern, commanding, eerily impressive.

Cutting the potatoes into medium sized slices, 'I surmise you enjoy cooking Anastasia judging by your evident knife skill', a low hypnotic purr, guard in place prevents my inner goddess swooning at the sound. Casually I tell him of the times I cooked for Ray and a little about him.

'Ah your stepfather enjoys fly fishing, an excellent pursuit', he smiles.

'Do you, hunting also, what with Hillingham being an Estate', nosily I ask vividly visualizing the view from the set of ballroom doors.

'No, I never had the interest in either', a factual reply, 'if in the future your stepfather pays a visit while you and Christian are residing in Manor house he is welcome to Hillingham Hall, shoot and fish as much as he desires'.

_Wow_, very similar to what Mr Darcy said to Elizabeth's Uncle, 'thanks Ethan he'd love that', I smile, he nods and begins salting the sliced eggplants and zucchini.

'Vi said you fence, is that your only hobby', Julie Andrews is singing Getting to Know You in my head, even the tone deaf harpy is singing along.

An entertained quizzical grin parts his lips revealing perfect pearly whites, I manage to stop a blush and mentally kick my ass, _jeez Ana...ok…..but I'd challenge any hot blooded woman not to react to his astounding physique and beauty_, 'hobbies…ummmm', his eyes flicker with amusement, 'tennis and riding'.

_Whoa_, the way he said riding, 'Ana baby where are the napkins kept', Christian calls loudly, _phew_, his loving voice stopped a full on red faced blush.

Smiling at my fifty's bewildered expression, 'in the dining cabinet, second drawer down', I wink then gape open mouthed as cheekily he orders Vi to fetch them, she makes her way looks at me and grins, checks Christian's back is turned and sticks her tongue out at him, I burst into giggles.

'Ah yes, Lady Rochester does possess quite unladylike qualities', Ethan laughs, 'also possesses a wicked temper', he adds eyes gleaming, unnerved more by the gleam than the latter comment I swiftly move onto lightly oiling an oven proof dish with rosemary infused olive oil and secure my guard with fifty padlocks.

* * *

Placing on the designer dining table four of the sixteen beautiful pearl grey embroidered napkins, 'these are pretty', I blurb for something to say, we've exhausted the subject of weather. Conversation with Christian is like drawing blood from a turnip, down to the fact he just doesn't like and trust me.

'A wedding present from my PA Andrea', he murmurs straightening the elegantly designed silverware then looks at me dead on, 'what do you think I'd do to a person who rudely sticks their tongue out at me', _damn caught…how...his back was turned…..oh my reflection in the window wall_.

'Wild guess, ball gag', jokingly I quip.

'No, too obvious, I'd bind their fingers and toes', a wry smirk.

'So how does Seattle function with the majority of the population in that state of binding', I giggle, begrudgingly he laughs, _for Pete's sake Violet stop being such a bitch...he's your friend's husband and been through a lot in life_, 'I'm sincerely sorry Christian, I didn't mean to be a smartarse. Any chance you and I could start over with a clean slate'.

Inclining his head, he studies my face, grey eyes piercing through mine, 'ok Violet, for Ana', _fair enough can't ask for more than that_.

'For Ana', I nod happily and smile, 'now what about the napkins, fancy shaping is beyond me, any ideas'.

He smiles, 'yep keep it simple', we laugh and lay one beside each of the four Versace La Mer Collection dinner plates.

'Job done, any idea what to do next Violet', he asks eyes zoning in on Ana, she's laughing waving a whisk like a conductor, Ethan's laughing his head off, _brilliant…..we're all getting along_, the remaining tangles of nerves within unfurl.

'Yeah, Ana's given me a great idea', I grin, he looks at me quizzically, 'entertain the troops, you play I'll warble'.

'I've got one better', he gestures to the piano, 'I'll teach you to play a piece, add to your repertoire of one. Do you read music or play by ear'?

'A little of reading mostly by ear', I answer.

Curbing giggles Ethan's eyeing us going to it grinning like the Cheshire cat. No wonder, anytime he tried to teach me we'd only last five minutes and end up either on top of the piano or the Music room's floor making music of a different kind.

* * *

'Live music while cooking', smiling broadly heart tugging happily seeing Christian making an effort with Vi, 'do you play Ethan', I ask out of interest.

'Regularly', he grins, _salaciously?_

Huffing indignantly whether or not, 'come now Anastasia do not be affronted, we are adults are we not'.

An overwhelming rush of anger explodes within, 'we are Ethan but you're in mine and Christian's home, no companions here submissive or otherwise', I growl, _oh holy fuck…what have I done_, it was fleeting but anger sparked in his eyes now they're deadly cold.

'I apologise for my perceived ungentlemanly remark, shall we continue', he gestures to the salted and weighted eggplant and zucchini slices draining their juice into a bowl, the pale greenish yellow color of the liquid matches my pallor, 'or perhaps I should commence the béchamel sauce Head Chef', he adds in a light tone.

'The sauce please', the words barely came out of my mouth.

In a fog I go to the fridge haphazardly gather ingredients to make a salad, walk to the far end of the breakfast bar and land them onto it.

Staring blindly at the piano, Christian's kind patient face and Vi's happy determined expression become clear, "_I've broken your trust Vi_", loudly I scream in my head over and over. Christian looks at me, smiles, beaming a forced one, Vi waves then giggles realizing she missed several notes by doing so.

* * *

'Concentrate', Christian's faux scolding makes me giggle more, 'in the middle of a performance in the Albert Hall you wouldn't wave at your fans'.

'I would', I laugh.

'I bet', he grins, 'arch your fingers more…..like this', with such a gentle touch his shapely fingers position mine, 'on the count of four', quietly he counts me in.

Christian would've made a great music teacher or any kind of teacher, mathematics, geography I muse fumbling along making a pig's ear of it, 'you're distracted Violet, concentrate', he whispers, I nod but continue to fumble.

'Stop', he says, I do, his hand goes between mine and demonstrates a simple Middle C scale, 'repeat that ten times without mistake, make one, do them over',_ weird…has he just lamped into a grey area…oh grey area_, breaking into a fit of giggles.

'What Violet', a mock stern expression on his face, I try to keep mine straight, 'piano lessons, that's the way I was taught. Now do them, they're good for loosening fingers'.

Not a hope in hell holding in my laughter, 'oh very clever, scales for loosening fingers after binding'.

'God you're so annoying', he states and surprises me by playfully knuckling my forehead like Tristan does when I annoy and make him laugh.

'Right back at you Grey, I hope you know Beethoven's rolling in his grave', I retort, his held in laughter bursts.

* * *

'What was it called again Christian', I ask before hungrily shoving another forkful of the delicious Moussaka into my gob.

'Für Elise', he smiles topping up Ana's glass then Ethan's with Pinot Grigio, I declined the wine figuring even one sip would top up the alcohol levels still having a party in my system from this afternoon, 'with practice you'll have it perfect'.

'Yeah…Ethan...no clue why I didn't think of it before. I'm going to start piano lessons, Mrs Seymour in the village, she'd be brill', I announce and tickle his waist, _odd_, his stomach's rigid with tension, 'you ok', under my breath I mutter.

'Pondering your decision my love, indeed Mrs Seymour would be ideal', a clipped reply, _what's up with him_, probably business, he was none too happy with the last call, caused him to abandon sous chef duties and pace back and forth in front of the window wall, _must have been bad he did more listening than barking instructions_.

'Ana baby this dish is fantastic, kudos Ethan', Christian raises his glass, 'to friends', he toasts.

Clinking glasses, 'to friends', we chorus, warmly fondly I smile at Ana, a bare smile in return, _ahh...she's tired...I'll make sure to clean up after dinner_.

'When do you hope to move into your new home', I ask loading my plate with a portion of avocado, pancetta and pine nut salad.

'When Elliot pulls his finger out', Christian answers, his eye dart to Ana pushing a forkful of Moussaka around her plate, 'Ana eat baby', a soft but ordering tone, she does almost robotically.

'Have refurbishments concluded on Manor house', Ethan asks, sips his wine and continues eating in his usual elegant fashion, inwardly sighing, _I could watch him eat all day long_.

'They have, can't fault the construction company you recommended', Christian nods, Ethan smiles blandly.

'Oh Ana either last week or the week before when passing, I had a nose through the gates, it's beautiful. Mr Falkner popped into the Fox and Hound one night a month or so ago. Said he was plagued by a crow who wasn't taking no for an answer to vacate a chimney. Left with no choice he built an aviary for the feathered friend'.

'Did he say where he put the aviary', she asks in a dull tone.

'In the grove...or was it the east boundary trees, whichever I'm sure the squawker will be happy'.

'I'm sure it will', she mumbles dully.

'Rochester', jolting as Ethan answers an incoming call, 'hold', he orders, 'please forgive my rudeness at the table', we nod.

'Continue', he says to the person, listens, a massive eye roll of annoyance, 'Tyler is there a mass exodus from Sea-Tac grounding j one and two or simply incompetence'.

The answer not to his liking judging by his thunderous expression, 'I see, allowing only one out. Very well, since j three is currently grounded in RC Air have j two airborne as soon as maybe and sent directly to Edinburgh. Txt the time when j one can depart, that will be all'.

'Ethan couldn't we just go on j two and drive down to Hillingham or stay over in Aberdeely', I point out hoping that might help because his thunderous expression's not shifting.

_Uh oh_, coldness in his eyes, 'unfortunately no my love, once j two lands and Bellamy boards with that hideous Poynter, it and the painting are due in Geneva', a flash smirk, _he's angry_, a horrible sense of foreboding washes over me, 'Christian rather than impede further on yours and Anastasia's hospitality please inform of the nearest hotel for Violet, Cleary and I cannot depart until the morrow'.

'Ethan no imposition, you're more than welcome to stay', Christian's tone genuine hospitality, _holey fuck_, the blood's drained from Ana's face, _shit…she's let something slip_, appetite vanishes, I'm light headed, _Ethan's going to mangle me...for fuck sake calm down Violet...breathe_.

'How gracious thank you', he smiles again blandly.

'Can I interest you in a game of billiards after dinner', Christian asks in friendly but also competitive tone, _brilliant...once they're occupied I can ask Ana if she said anything…..all's well_.

'Christian not fair depriving Vi and I of yours and Ethan's company', she pipes up, _no…Ana...no_.

'Ana nothing stopping you and Violet playing', he grins, 'Ethan what do you say, make it interesting, couple against couple', _oh for fuck sake_.

'I don't know how to play…..best you guys go it alone...Ana and I have loads to do...the kitchen's a mess', I blurt before Ethan drew breath, _come on Ana back me up…..bloody hell_, she can't look me straight in the eye.

'Violet we'll wait until you're both ready', Christian's expression bemused.

'Indeed', Ethan grins at me, _fuck_, knowingly, 'Christian, Violet and I shall endeavour to rise to the challenge'.

* * *

Not caring if Vi lets the stacked Versace plates she's carrying precariously to the kitchen fall, once she's nears I bridge the gap, 'Vi', I whip them from her shaking hands, 'I'm sorry, I made a comment, companion's Submissive or otherwise to Ethan, playing the piano, I asked', _oh God make sense Ana_.

'What', her expression confused, my mouth flaps.

'Sshhhh', she puts her finger to her lips guides me to the sink.

Once there we turn our backs on the dining table where Christian and Ethan are chatting leisurely, 'Ana that made no sense', she whispers frantically, taking a deep breath accurately I repeat what was said.

'I don't understand, Ethan said regularly meaning the piano, why did you think he meant anything else', her expression remains confused.

'He grinned in a way that wasn't about playing a piano, I got mad Vi, it was an innuendo', lowly I hiss in exasperation.

She sighs deeply closes her eyes, 'he tested you Ana...but you wouldn't have fallen for it and got mad unless', her eyes open and search mine, 'you're attracted to him', so quietly she states no jealously, hatred or rancour in her voice.

'No...yes…no…..no…I love Christian', I sob, she takes the plates from my hands, puts them on the drainer'.

'Course you love Christian', she smiles sympathetically, I wipe away streaming tears, 'Ana hold it together…look…..we're only human at the end of the day. Illogical to think at some point in our lives we wouldn't find another person attractive'.

'Vi you've got to understand. I'm not attracted to Ethan in a conventional way…..it's more…abstract…..as if a character from the books I love came to life in modern times', I grasp her hand, 'please understand…..I love Christian...he's my reality, my love, my one and only love'.

Extracting her hand from mine methodically she scrapes the leftovers from the plates into the sink and switches on the waste disposal unit.

'I understand', she murmurs over the noise discreetly glances towards the dining table, I do, they're engrossed in conversation, 'Ana I trust you and know Christian is the love of your life. We'd be very stupid to let a none-issue come between us'.

'Thank you Vi...thank you…it won't come between us…but what are you going to do, Ethan must know we've talked', I stammer with that reality hitting me like a wrecking ball from nowhere, she sighs deeply again, switches off the unit, inclines her head in thought then turns on the faucet full blast creating more noise.

'Confirm we have', she cleans the sink vigorously with hot running water, 'refuse to tell him Christian's story. All it means is a level playing field, we'll be definitely in the same boat Ana, seems fair doesn't it', a shoulder shrug and humourlessl grin she gives.

_Yes…sharing one heavy oar…..but how will Ethan react_, turning off the faucet, the unasked question is answered by uncertainty in her eyes, _oh God...the position I've put her in_, 'it's ok Ana, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it', she whispers.

All too soon we have the dishwasher loaded, the kitchen and dining room table spotless, 'nature calls', Vi informs and swiftly heads for the stairs, my stomach lurches seeing Ethan politely excuse himself from Christian's company and at a slow, casual pace makes his way.

Hastily I go to the table take a substantial sip of wine to steady my nerves, Christian smiles, 'Ana ease up, billiards baby I want my partner on her A game'.

'A game at the ready', I force a smile, my subconscious is no longer harpy faced, a scornful expression replaced it and she's giving me the sternest warning of my life, do not make matters worse by telling Christian Ethan almost certainly knows Vi and I have confided.

* * *

_Hurry up_, I urge my bladder, typically one of longest pee's of my life but I'm confident I'll make it back to the living room before Ethan cops I'm gone. He's engrossed listening to Christian yacking about a Charlie Tango, whatever that is, Christian's voice wafted towards the kitchen only intermediately as Ana and I cleaned up.

Finally finished, I wipe, flush, pull up my panties, button up my jeans and I'm at the sink washing and drying my hands in two seconds flat.

Belting from the bathroom into the bedroom I trip and land on my knees in shock, Ethan's sitting at the very edge of the bed like a stone stature.

Eyes black as coal stare at me, 'stay as you are', he murmurs coldly, I do, the bridge I'll have to cross stretches out before me.

'Am I to presume your sweet rampant little mouth divulged my past and present history to Anastasia', his tone glacial, I nod knowing verbally responding would aggravate him further.

'I see', his eyes narrow angrily, 'I must therefore presume her rampant mouth divulged all to Christian', shaking my head indicating no, 'really', tone sarcastic, 'how incredibly naïve you are Violet. Allow me to paint a scenario, Anastasia gushed declaring her trustworthiness, undying loyalty to you. But alas once your back was turned foolishly sporting an easy mind she with verve divulged all to Christian', I shake my head again.

'As well for you now to respond', he orders in a tone so chillingly devoid of emotion it cuts painfully through my heart.

'I'm sorry Ethan I know you feel betrayed but'.

'Betrayed', he interrupts fiercely, stands, walks over and towers over me, casting my eyes down I stare at his beautiful feet, 'betrayed, putting it rather mildly', he adds in a snarl.

Tears stream down my cheeks, I see them clearly landing and splashing on his toes, 'please understand Ethan', I croak, 'Ana is to me what Ari was to you. A confidant and friend, she hasn't and won't ever tell Christian what I told her', _he's got to know_, 'because she told me their story, Christian's past and present history and I won't ever tell you'.

A deadly silence goes on and on, time blurs, tears continue to fall relentlessly, my knees on the hardwood floor are now aching, his feet are drenched, still the silence goes on, 'please can I get up', I bleat.

No reply, looking up, rapidly I look down at his feet, _no…..no...no_, an expression of implacable coldness marred his stunning face, _oh no…..God no…please no_, he's building up fast the barriers I helped bring down, I just know it.

Heart hammering frantically I wrap my arms around his thighs and bury my face against his taut stomach, 'Ethan…please…..don't do what you're doing', my agonising cry of despair sounds fearful in my ears.

Holding him tighter pouring into him every ounce of love I have, 'I love you Ethan…stay with me…don't shut down and shut me out'.

Silence, I only hear and feel him breathing very slowly and deeply, in sobs my body sags and slides down his legs, my right cheek lands on his left wet foot, the deafening silence continues as does my hammering heart.

'Until further notice', suddenly he speaks, in hope I press my lips against his instep, 'you shall conduct yourself in the manner required, unhand me', I do with relief surging through me, _he's not shutting down…he's not shutting me out_, covertly I watch him walk into the bathroom and close the door.

Easing back on my calves locking my wrists behind my back I breathe four long lung expanding breaths then lower my head.

Within one minute gladly and acceptingly I prepared my mind for the immediate transition into a complete Sub/Dom partnership knowing in my heart he needs this to overcome what he perceives was my total betrayal and disloyalty.

* * *

A frisson of nervous tension grips as Vi and Ethan re-join Christian and I in the great room, it dissipates, Vi's smiling, not a single trace of worry, nerves or tension, _if they talked they worked it out…..phew…a relief_.

'I apologise for the delay', Ethan's smile and tone relaxed.

'No delay', Christian grins, gets up from the table, grasps my hand.

I stand and we lead the way to the library which houses the billiard table, vividly my mind flashes images of that Perspex ruler.

Christian opens the door, we enter, I breathe in the comforting smell of books, another scent wafts, recognizing it, Clé de Peau soap, Vi raved about the brand so much I bought their whole skin care range.

Glancing, Ethan's running his hand through saturated raven black hair, the scent's emanating from him, obviously he took a quick shower but with no luggage he's wearing what he arrived in, _should I offer jeans and tee-shirt of Christian's...no…way to awkward_.

'Ethan your preference, English or carom billiards', Christian asks striding to the cupboard beneath the extensive bookshelves. Vi's staring at the billiard table, Ethan shrugs his shoulders, 'I am at ease with either', he replies insouciantly.

'Any of them like pool', Vi murmurs.

Ethan grasps her wrist not her hand, brings it to his mouth and kisses the underside, 'not to dissimilar', in a soft tone but dull tone he informs and oddly didn't refer to her as his love.

'Why don't we play pool', I blurt, 'easier to follow, what do you think Vi'.

She smiles, 'yeah ok'.

'Pool it is, best out of three', Christian extracts the leather case from the cupboard and in no time with efficient precision racks the balls.

* * *

Christian's very pleased we won the first game, goes to the drinks cabinet and pours four glasses of Remy Martin Black Pearl Louis XIII cognac. Ethan's blowing excess chalk from the tip of his cue expression unreadable.

I stroll over to Vi, she's rolling the white ball on the baize from on hand to the other lost in a world of her own, 'you ok', I whisper.

She stops the ball abruptly, 'yeah…..who knew it'd be so hard to get a stripy ball down a pocket', she replies with no eye contact.

'Vi you know what I mean', I murmur, under her lashes she glances at Ethan, back now turned studying the bookshelf containing the first edition set of Tess of the D'Urbervilles books, my graduation present from Christian.

'Everything's grand', a low dull reply, why do I get the feeling she doesn't want me to talk to her.

Christian sidles up, 'here baby', smiles hands me one antique lead crystal brandy glass, 'Violet', offers her the other.

Ethan materializes by her side, 'Christian Violet's tastes do not extend to brandy', instantly she nods in agreement seamlessly her outstretched hand that was about to accept the glass reaches for and takes her cue lying on the baize. _Holy fuck, I get it_, although in company and discreet Ethan's in Dominant mode Vi's in Submissive.

Gauging Christian's expression, impassive, impossible to tell if he sees it but with his experience I sense he can, he offers the glass to Ethan, it's taken, 'can I get you something else Violet', he asks.

_Holey moley_, it happened in a flash, Vi's eyes darted up to Ethan, he blinked once.

'Water please Christian', she murmurs.

'Ok, water', _he sees it_, as he past to go back to the drinks cabinet he smiled at me knowingly, niggling questions erupt in my mind, is this the way Vi and Ethan are working through the issue of Vi and me confiding, is this how they usually resolve their issues, if so does it work for them, _gosh…I hope so_.

'You play pool well Anastasia', Ethan in no way disguises a perceptive knowing smile then sips his brandy, Vi's eyes are fixedly staring down at either her feet or the handle end of the cue, _strange_, her expression's ethereal, calm, peaceful.

Admittedly I'm fascinated witnessing the subtle Sub/Dom dynamics between them, 'thanks my friend José taught me', I reply, Christian comes back and weirdly places the glass of iced Perrier on the edge of the billiard table rather than hand it to Vi, _why?_.

'Thanks Christian', she murmurs, makes no move to take it, Ethan does, hands it to her.

'You're welcome Violet', Christian replies in tone I can't differentiate, my subconscious is hysterically holding up a giant placard saying, "_yearning_", _oh God has this reignited Christian's craving for my servitude_.

'Game two, shall we commence', Ethan announces in a flippant tone.

'You bet Ethan, rack the balls', Christian announces as flippantly, in confusion the blood drains from my face.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Christian has three balls to pot to give us the win in the third and final game, he announces his intended pocket, Ethan nods, no response from Vi, I nod and reflect. To say I found playing the last two lengthy games with Vi and Ethan in Sub/Dom mode awkward yet mesmerizing is an understatement.

Awkward in the sense anytime I spoke to her she replied blankly quietly with six or less worded sentences, Ethan, between chatting sociably with Christian and me spoke to her only to offer further instruction on how to play.

Christian, since getting her the mineral water never uttered a syllable, in fact, the manner in which he ignored her you'd swear she was tapped on the head by a magician's wand and made invisible. Why did he do that I wonder and ignore my scowling sub-conscious telling me in a philosophical tone, "_because he desires to have you in the exact same situation, allowed to speak only when spoken to and the rest_".

What was and is mesmerizing is the underlining energy between them creating a subtly charged atmosphere that hangs in the air, _can Christian feel it_, watching him pot the ball easily, he studies and works out the best angle for the next shot, moves confidently, panther-like, _whoa_, around the table and again announces his intended pocket.

While he makes the shot covertly I look at Vi and Ethan, raptly, intently he's staring at the top of her cast down head, her eyes are fixedly staring at his feet, her expression tranquil. Clearly Ethan's core mental and physical focus is solely on Vi, she's surrendered to him control over everything she does so he's wholly responsible for her.

Deep within I can't deny the very small part of me that understands the Total Power Exchange, and took solace being in that state myself on occasion , your every worry, bewildering thought, niggling doubt is erased as your core mental and physical focus in return is solely for, I look at Christian potting the last ball, _for you_. But for me I know the associated feelings of humiliation and debasement were too high a price to pay, suppressing a grin my poor sub-conscious is recovering from a fit of the vapours.

'Well played', Ethan shakes his hand.

'Thanks', Christian replies tone not excessively triumphant, his arms wrap around my waist, 'you played great Ana'.

Blushing, 'thanks', I murmur, he kisses my nose.

'Indeed well played Anastasia', Ethan smiles benignly, I nod.

'Victory is thirsty and hungry work', Christian announces, 'I could do with a Sub', against my ear he adds in a whisper, _what_, my sub-conscious faints from lack of oxygen, he laughs, winks playfully implying it was a joke, she and I recover.

'Allow me to put away the cues', Ethan pipes up.

'Thanks', Christian airily replies and guides me to the door, as we leave I look back, Ethan's slotting his cue into the mahogany wall mounted holder Vi is as she was, standing motionless.

The question plagues, 'why didn't you hand Vi the glass of Perrier and ignore her', it blurts under my breath.

'Unwritten rule, never speak or make contact with another's Sub unless invited', he murmurs, _what the hell_, my expression shocked, 'Ana baby you asked'.

Christian's heading for the kitchen, I follow at a slower pace wondering was he ever invited to speak or make contact with another's Sub in the clubs for the lifestyle in Seattle he told me exist and went to. To this day I never asked him for blow by blow accounts, 'Vi's a person not a Sub', hisses angrily stemming from jealousy of those unknown events.

'Jesus Christ Ana grow up, they're consenting adults', he hisses, my mouth gapes open, 'maybe in England it's more acceptable to openly role play, adds to the eccentricity', he grins, 'and for whatever reason they are is their business not ours', my mouth snaps shut, he eyes me intently as he walks around the breakfast bar towards the fridge.

'You know don't you', those grey eyes narrow.

_What's the point keeping it secret_, nerves knotting, 'I'm almost certain it's because Ethan's aware Vi and I've confided'.

'Fuck', he charges back to the counter and slams his fist down startling me, 'ready to admit Anastasia your judgment regarding her trustworthiness was naïve and misplaced'.

'It wasn't Vi, it was me', barely I murmur, his expression disbelief.

'How', he growls lowly, I tell him, nerves now prickling.

'No doubt the arrogant fuck's innuendo was sexual but he referred to himself Ana. You prudishly took offense and your smart mouth ran away with you', he states and admonishes.

'Yes, to my mind it was disrespectful of Vi', I retort irascibly, this isn't the first time Christian referred to my prudishness or smart mouth, also now I'm immature and should grow up. How easily he forgets I had very little experience of men before him, but only when it suits, when it doesn't he's gleefully smug and triumphant he claimed my virginity and broadened my sexual appetites.

Frantically my sub-conscious is jumping up and down waving both hands, losing her half-moon spectacles in the process, pointing out at least he thinks it was nothing more than prudishness on my part, annoyance and some tension rapidly diminishes.

Christian cocks his head to one side in thought, 'companions, Submissive or otherwise', he repeats part of what I said to Ethan, 'intriguing he made distinctions', he sure did, recalling what Vi told me, "_some were plainly sex partners others Submissive's. What was common between the two types of unions, Ethan's word for the partnerships, every single woman put her everyday life on hold, resided in PH2 of RC then went back to her life once he grew tired and dissolved the union_".

So, so clinical, at least Christian's Subs left because of incompatibly I muse, my sub-conscious retrieving her glasses is tutting, "_on his part, not theirs, he's no different to Lord Cast-Them-Away-Alot_" , a frown's creasing Christian's forehead distracting me and her from the horrible image of Ghost Girl and the events that followed, 'what Christian'?

Swiftly I walk around the breakfast bar, 'fuck', escapes his lips.

'What Christian', his concerned expression causes concern to rise within, I grasp his hand for reassurance, his eyes drift in the direction of the library, mine do, what's taking them so long.

'Ethan's either adopted a Dom role to punish Violet for disloyalty or break her until she cracks and tells him everything', he says more to himself than to me.

_Oh God no_, 'Christian that would be mental abuse...after what she's been through with her first boyfriend', tears pool, _no...no...he loves her_.

"_You are heartless…you'll never learn to love...you're wired wrong_", Vi's words at the dinner party pierce my mind, 'would he do that Christian...could he be so heartless'.

'Guesswork, you know his history, you tell me what he's capable of', he snorts, anger sparking in his eyes.

Prevented from saying I don't know and honestly think Vi doesn't either by Ethan entering the great room, Vi's following a few feet behind head cast down, his left forefinger fluidly gestures to the stairs and with no eye or verbal communication to us or him hastily she walks to them.

Ethan without a backward glance continues striding to the breakfast bar slipping his cell into the pocket of his swim shorts, my stomach lurches, 'thank you for a most enjoyable evening I bid you both goodnight. Violet and I require no further sustenance', he says in an ultra-polite tone once he reached the counter.

'Goodnight', automatically I reply noting the clock showing twenty after ten, _a long night ahead for Vi_, suddenly I realize the games of pool delayed Ethan from doing whatever he's going to do, _shit_, that's why he tanked shots a beginner like Vi made. A horrible sense of foreboding creeps up on me, _Christian's right_.

'Glad to reciprocate your hospitality Ethan', Christian's tone equally polite, 'if you're not too tired I'd appreciate your opinion on a report I received, a Company claiming to have developed a super organic fertilizer', _oh, Christian's deploying a delay tactic, he's concerned_, Ethan's eyes narrow marginally, I hold my breath.

'I am not fatigued', a flash grin, 'but super or not, organic fertilizer is not my area of interest, more Tristan's', curtly he nods.

'Ethan I want to talk to you', Christian's sharp tone has Ethan glowering at us, unfazed Christian glowers back, my heart skips several beats.

'Regarding what', a clipped tone.

'You know', Christian states harshly.

'Unfortunately I do not possess psychic abilities, you shall have to be more specific', he replies not hiding a bored and almost goading tone, casually he folds his arms, his eyes penetratingly trained on Christian's.

'Ana and Violet have full knowledge of our pasts, specific enough for you Ethan', his calm tone is juxtaposed to the anger emanating from him.

Ethan laughs, 'what of it'.

I'm wide eyed by his blithe reaction, Christian's not convinced, 'you're not in any way worried Ana will divulge all to me', _oh no_, Christian's deliberately goading him.

'No', Ethan grins, I'm not totally sure but I thought I saw a muscle in his neck twitch, 'do you harbour concerns the same could be said of Violet'.

'Yes', Christian states.

'Whatever for Christian', Ethan snaps impatiently.

'You know why Ethan', Christian snaps back.

'There again unfortunately I do not', he states.

'If you knew my past you'd bring my business down, the ultimate acquisition', Christian tone matter of fact.

Ethan arches an eyebrow in an incredulous fashion, 'dear fellow, I make decisions on acquisitions purely on a business level', a sanctimonious smirk, 'we are in an era of global economic unrest. I take the view of dismantling and selling off viable businesses such as yours rather pointless, wasteful in fact therefore be assured I have no designs on Grey Enterprises'.

'Ok, you've made your intentions clear', Christian's tone accepting and tinged with relief but I'm astounded by the abandonment of his concern for Vi.

'So that's it...the Masters of the Universe are content', I spurt, glare at Ethan, 'what are your intentions regarding Vi, punish her for confiding in me until she cracks', my glare shifts to Christian, 'happy you got a guarantee, Grey Enterprises is safe from who you consider an arrogant fuck...you both make me sick'.

'Arrogant fuck, my, my', Ethan rolls his eyes seemingly thoroughly amused, not caring I move to run from the kitchen but am held tight by Christian.

'Sshhhh baby, calm down, let me handle this', he whispers into my ear, furiously I wrestle to break free.

'Twenty four seven ball gagging would be my solution', mockingly under his breath Ethan mutters.

Abruptly shunted aside I see the blur that is Christian Grey launching over the breakfast bar boxing Ethan's jaw, from the impact Ethan staggers bends over and grips the edge of the granite top to stop from falling, _holy shit_, I run around to the other side, Christian's athletically springing to his feet, expression enraged.

'Stop...Christ...stop', I screech, adrenalin pumping I lunge between them, back my body against Christian's pushing backwards and grab his fist that's poised to make another blow, it's aim, Ethan's left temple.

Tense moments pass, I manage to keep Christian still, his breath over my head rasps, Ethan slowly eases upright, wipes streaming blood from his mouth with his hand, droplets land on the polished hardwood floor, others by a flick of his wrist splatter his white tee-shirt, 'the assault on my person captured in full', he asks, _to who?_

A person materializes from the direction of staff's quarters, Mr Cleary, a hand held digital camera in hand, 'yes your Lordship and in glorious hi definition Sir'.

'Excellent, fetch her Ladyship at once', he orders.

'You bastard, what will you do to Christian, to Vi, where's Sawyer, Prescott', I squawk in hysterical confusion.

Christian's body is rigid, quickly glancing back, _oh no_, he's practically catatonic, 'your SD are safe if a little worse for wear, Cleary has quite a talent, that of enticing the bored and gullible into serious poker with strong alcohol attached', Ethan grins then grimaces, 'my dear Anastasia, I told an untruth, indeed it does not sit comfortably you possess knowledge of my past therefore when Christian resumes normal demeanour inform his fate depends entirely on you', _what does he mean_.

An impatient sigh wafts, 'damning evidence, criminal charges, court cases, legal battles. Dear oh dear, I for one would not take pleasure pursuing that route nor shall I', using the hem of his tee-shirt he mops up a fresh stream of blood from his mouth, grimaces again, 'albeit a painful guarantee of your silence Anastasia, a guarantee nonetheless, do you comprehend now'.

'You fucking bastard, as well your parents are dead, they'd be disgusted at how you turned out', I roar at him.

His eyes flicker to artic coldness, 'a rather unsporting comment and by your outburst I am not encouraged you can maintain your end of the bargain. But perhaps Christian will employ methods to see that you do, my suggestion, caning on the daily'.

An awakened Christian protectively moves me behind him, I cling to his back, 'don't speak to my wife like that', he growls menacingly, 'you're obviously hiding a sinister past to have gone to such trouble', _don't Christian...don't provoke him any further_.

'Trouble you easily fell for dear fellow', he retorts pointedly, 'and your reaction quite telling. You harbour a rage you cannot control which leads me to suspect it influenced your past escapades, if I am correct, then how every sinister'.

Christian stiffens with tension, Ethan has the gall to smile, 'I must congratulate you on an excellent right hook also for your ill-disguised gallantry and concern regarding her Ladyship's well being, in that regard'.

Wailing by Vi interrupts him, she's running from the end of stairs to him, 'what's going on...what's going on', hysterically she cries, 'oh sweet Jesus what happened to your face?'

'Silence, cease weeping', he snarls and roughly places her behind his back, muffled sobs continue, over Christian's shoulder I see Mr Cleary striding to the penthouse doors with her luggage, 'are we at stalemate Anastasia, Christian with regards an understanding or shall I call nine, one, one', he asks in low tone.

'An understanding, now get out', Christian roars.

'Excellent', Ethan gives a mocking bow, I watch in a daze as they and Mr Cleary leave.

* * *

Vi's heart breaking sobs still ring in my ears, her haunting sorrowful grieved expression sears my brain over and over, _it was and is identical to mine_. Taken from the great room into the study by Christian I stare at his troubled, angry and determined face, he seats me in his black leather chair. Briskly he takes a notepad from a drawer, lands it and his Mont Blanc fountain pen on the desk, 'within an hour document everything Violet told you, names, dates, places, everything', he stresses.

'Why', I bleat.

'Just do it Ana', he orders.

'But he's not going to do anything Christian', another bleat, 'he has his solid guarantee', I add bitterly.

He laughs raucously, 'and the only way to ensure he doesn't Anastasia is if I have one of my own, document everything', he orders thunderously and just as thunderously stalks from the study.

With a heavy heart, guilt surging I'm about to betray Vi for what now has to be total loyalty to Christian I begin. Heavier my heart becomes the more I write knowing I'm irrevocably and fully to blame for getting us into this mess, _there's no going back and no way out_, vaguely I hear Christian's voice roaring in unadulterated fury at Prescott and Sawyer.

* * *

Silently watching Ethan look about the signature suite of the hotel he checked us into for the rest of the night, Cascade it's called, apt I think disjointedly.

During the journey here I sat in the back of an SUV Ethan must have hired when he landed in Sea-Tac with tears cascading down my cheeks blurring the view of Seattle's landmarks, which were further obscured by torrential rain and the black night sky.

Ethan up front talked viciously on his mobile to Mr Hargreaves-Smith, our barrister, on his next call, as viciously to Mr Holland. Frantically Mr Cleary drove consulting the SatNav but we ended up on a motorway going in the wrong direction which caused Ethan to viciously bark at him until he got us back onto a road for downtown Seattle.

Bewildered half listening to the helpful gushing porter telling Ethan about the services the hotel and suite provide, 'well then suitcases need to be addressed do they not', Ethan gruffly interjects, the guy hastily brings them into a bedroom, comes back out looking fairly rattled.

'Sir is there anything else I can do', he asks in concerned tone eyeing the state Ethan's in, no wonder, he looks like he went twelve rounds with Mike Tyson and I still don't know how it happened.

'No', Ethan eyes him vehemently in return.

'Very good Sir', the guy practically salutes with nerves, Cleary ushers him out giving him a substantial tip judging by the thickness of the wad of notes.

'What's going on Ethan', blithers, much as it did in Escala, I'm unsure whether to caress his bloodied jaw and mouth, hold him in my arms or sink to my knees.

'Silence', he commands, _shit_, the latter.

'Yes Sir', I bleat and automatically move to kneel, stopped by his hand seizing the nape of my neck I'm drawn to his chest protectively, even so I keep my arms by my sides and eyes lowered.

Mr Cleary's shiny black shoes walk and stand next to Ethan's beautiful exposed feet in his flip-flops. A swirly twirly headmelt is threatening I peer at a congealed dark red blood blot splayed across his instep and ridiculously think it could pass for a map of Norway, Sweden and Finland.

Ana's anguished and complete disillusioned expression as we left Escala sears my mind for the umpteenth time, _we're strong Ana...don't add fuel to the fire by telling Christian everything...my lips are sealed...don't worry_, 'Cleary avoid the wittering bellhop, go directly to the concierge, have him or her summon the top physician Seattle affords then proceed to Sea-Tac and retrieve my attire from j one', Ethan's tone snappy and harsh.

'Yes your Lordship', the shiny shoes walk away.

'Look to me', Ethan murmurs, I do, tears leak at the sight of his beautiful face defiled by blood, bruising and swelling that seems to be getting worse, 'fortitudinis supra omnia', quietly he quotes the Rochester family motto.

'Red', in anguish I shout the word ceasing Sub/Dom mode.

The release of my neck is immediate, as if a stern implacable mask was removed, a warm loving smile now looks down on me, 'thank you for your forbearance my love'.

Enveloped tenderly in his arms, my head shakes in confusion, 'my angel, committing you to role of Submissive I was assured of your compliance, silence and controlled emotions allowing me to execute the required course of action. My instincts were correct, Anastasia, by the merest provocation proved her oath to you was hollow', he whispers.

'The course of action was to provoke Christian into clobbering you to keep her quiet', I mumble against his chest.

'Indeed', he murmurs in return, too many emotions intensely rush through me all at once, slowly I'm being sucked into an abyss, 'help me', I whimper.

Swept up into his arms, 'there, there my love', he coos, clinging to him as he carries me into the bedroom the tell-tale body shivers of sub-dropping ensue, 'all is well Violet, I am here darling'.

Swiftly he removes my trainers, bundles me into the bed, kicks off his flip-flops and slips in beside me. Held tightly, heat from his body does battle with the cold of mine, the tell-tale nonsensical blithering begins accompanied by uncontrollable tears, all the while his soothing soft voice tries to bring calm to the turmoil in my brain.

* * *

Measuring time passing is near on impossible, I drift in and out of sleep conscious of the irony smell of blood, 'go get cleaned up, I'm ok Ethan', my mumble doesn't sound in the slightest bit convincing.

'I am not leaving you', he murmurs and holds me tighter, gladly I take refuge in his comfort, my body's finally warming up, 'Violet not until our return to Hillingham shall we converse further on events', I nod my agreement.

In truth I'm too deflated anyway and instinctively know it wouldn't do anyone any good letting him know the only reason Ana blundered over his instinct hurdle in the first place was because of her abstract attraction for him, _fucking hell...why does life have to be so bloody complicated_.

An unobtrusive but firm knock on the door cuts through my thoughts, 'yes', Ethan answers in an irritated tone.

'Sir, I'm sorry for the intrusion, the doctor is available in the living room', the overly helpful porter gushingly informs.

'See him in here please', Ethan replies, makes no move to leave the bed, all he does is ease up to a sitting position and slouches against the head board of the king sized four poster, I move to bolt to the bathroom, 'my love rest please, remain where you are', I do but bury myself deeper beneath the luxurious quilt so only my head's visible.

The porter ushers in a guy who bears an uncanny resemblance to the Dr. Everett Scott character from the Roxy Horror Picture Show, one of Ethan's favourite films, 'Sir this is Dr Scott', the porter says. Not a hope in hell keeping them in, giggles burst and somehow they make me feel a whole lot better.

'Pleasure Dr Scott', Ethan address politely, he sees it and can't wipe the smile off his battered face, 'I do apologise for receiving you in this manner'.

'Good evening, no apology Mr Rochester', Dr Scott says in a waning German accent, _he is Dr Everett Scott_, muffling more giggles into the quilt, distinctly I hear Ethan choking back a laugh. Briskly the doctor makes his way to the bed wielding his black case the porter slips away hastily and closes the door.

* * *

After an extensive examination, Ethan ushers Dr Scott to the living room, well out of earshot I can't hear what's been said between them, Ethan pockets a brown plastic bottle containing what I presume are painkillers, shakes the doctor's hand, turns on his heel and strides back into the bedroom.

'Good grief', he grins, 'every moment I expected the good Doctor to break into song lamenting his nephew Eddie's demise into a life of rock n'roll porn und the motorbike'.

Undeniably back in reality I'm not falling for his obvious distraction tactic, 'why did you name Christian as your assailant', I ask.

'Added insurance', he mutters striding to another door, 'rest assured, Doctor patient privilege is akin to one's barrister', opening it a swish gleaming bathroom is revealed, he looks back, 'come, although late a soothing bath is what we require'.

* * *

Never so relieved to walk into the family kitchen of Hillingham Hall, immediately I pounce on the Jura, 'do you want an espresso Ethan?'

'Yes thank you', he replies, sits at the table expression disgruntled, upon our arrival Mr Fallows informed Orpheus, his prized stallion, took a tumble and is lame. Mrs Whitaker while giving an update on the household went into hysterics the more she look at Ethan face, he kindly insisted she take a few days holiday leave, unseen by him she venomously glared at me as if I was the one who did it.

Staring at the coffee machine doing its thing, I realise the more distance j one this morning put between us and Seattle the more secure I felt. During the flight I was able to sleep but not before I snapped at Ethan to stop pacing around the bedchamber cabin jabbering into his mobile because it or he'll send the jet off course. The snap received an amused and irritated snort then he went directly to the main lounge area and probably continued there anyway.

Bringing the tiny cups over to the table, as bolstered as I feel being home nothing can stop niggling anxiety within, 'glad to be home Ethan', I murmur.

'Indeed', he smiles, sips his coffee.

'Me too', scooting to the antique Welsh dresser in search of my secret stash of Custard Cream, the biscuits I gobble incessantly when anxious, 'will we stay in for dinner', noting his Dad's heirloomy clock showing quarter past four in the afternoon, 'or go the Fox and Hound, I'd murder Mr Wilkinson's Sunday roast and a pint of cider'.

'I am easy either way my love', he replies absently, glancing, he's engrossed with The Sunday Times.

Searching in a drawer beneath three packets my mobile practically winks at me, I laugh, 'your amusement Violet', an absent murmur.

'Found my mobile', I inform and immediately check for emails.

'My, my, all along guarding your delicious Custard Creams', he laughs, I do then stop abruptly reading the recent communication, _fuck_,niggling anxiety escalates from DEFCON five to one. In a single sentence Ana apologises she had no choice but to tell Christian all, _fuck...holy shit...what will he do?_

'Ethan', I run to the table, hand him my mobile, anger erupts deep in his dark brown eyes, 'my love, make ready for an immediate departure', he states in tone so eerily quiet it's worse than his roar.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Within an hour we left Hillingham Hall and have twenty minutes to go before we land on top of a turret of Aberdeely Castle. I handle choppers worse than jets, only for my tummy's empty vomit would be spewing but bilious retching is driving me bonkers.

Ethan's yacking through his headset to Mr Tyler in RC Air, through mine I hear them clearly, 'bear up my love, I am aware you are poorly, all will be well', his voice cuts through Mr Tyler informing veer east to avoid a snow storm and giving coordinates of longitude and latitude, I nod.

Ethan presses all sorts of switches and toggles while steering the chopper with to my mind looks like an elaborate joystick for playing high tech computer games. No high tech computer game involved in this jaunt I think savagely, due to Ana's fecklessness we're now, at Ethan's insistence on level five security, I'm to be dumped in Aberdeely, Ethan, no doubt without stopping to draw breath will fly to RC Air then go and ensconce himself in RC.

To say I'm angry she opened her gob is fairly accurate, _what would you have done in her shoes Violet_, did her fucking Louboutins end her up in Submissive mode, subsequent Sub-dropping, leaving her home and totally shattered from travelling, no they didn't, _you're angry with Ethan Violet_.

I most certainly am not, he did what he felt he had to do to, in the process put himself in harm's way and for what, for nothing, and there's no telling what Christian will do. He's ambitious, arrogant with an engendered need to control, at least Ethan's control is innate and accompanied by a strong sense of honour.

Christian could do with an injection of honour, his handling of the poor Leila woman prime example, granted the death of her lover pushed her over the edge, but to callously hold over her the threat of pulling financial support for her art school fees, medical and insurance costs if she even takes one step west of the Mississippi is dishonourable, _unless he's worried what she'd reveal about their Sub/Dom union now she's compos mentis_.

My attention's caught by Ethan giving his injured jaw a rub, I stare at him raptly, yeah, he's got integrity in spades, not once has he asked me to divulge Christian's past and he was spot on, Ana's promises were hollow, _well, time to even up the score_, 'Ethan', I jerk in the harness at the harsh angry sound of my voice in my ears.

'Yes Violet', his rings loudly but not harshly or angrily, _no...don't Violet…think of your integrity_, 'emmm…will you be long in RC'.

'As short a time as possible my love', he smiles lovingly quickly glances at me, I nod.

Closing my eyes I battle bouts of bilious retching, try to ignore the chopper pitching this way and that, and the horrible noise of the engines and rotors. A sudden image of what I imagine Leila looks like sends a shiver through me, 'are you cold Violet', Ethan asks as quietly as he can over the noise.

'No', I smile reassuringly, _why her_, she seems to me the saddest figure and it's beyond weird she, Susi and the rest of Christian's Sub-club are practically doppelgangers of his deceased heroin addicted Mum, including Ana. It takes all kinds I know but personally, not in a million years I'd have married a man knowing I resemble his deceased Mum, ex-girlfriends, Sub's, partners or whatever.

_Bloody hell_, I'd be constantly wondering which of us he's really thinking about or in Christian's case, driven by loss, grief, abuse, rage and control issues which of us he wants to beat the crap out of.

Curbing another shiver, with equal amounts of resolve and weariness I clear my mind of Ana and Christian thoughts, 'hey Mr Tyler I've a good one for you', I announce, Ethan mouths, "_over_", 'over', I add.

'I am all ears Lady Rochester, over', his jovial laughter fills my ears.

'A Kerryman rang Aer Lingus, asked how long it takes to fly from Dublin to London. Just a minute Sir said the girl on the desk. Thanks said the Kerryman and hung up, over', he Ethan and I burst out laughing, for now our spirits lift, Ethan gives my knee a quick squeeze and mouths, "_I love you_", I mouth the same in return.

* * *

Throughout the day Christian made no mention of the tearstained lengthy written account I gave him last night, we're sat either side of the breakfast bar, Gail serves our evening meal of Beef Bourguignon, her speciality on Sundays. Christian opens a bottle of 2005 Atrea Old Soul Red and pours the ruby red wine, 'thanks Gail', he says, she smiles and hastily leaves the great room.

No appetite to speak of I push a shallot round and round in the meaty jus enriched by Burgundy wine with my fork, 'eat Ana', subtly he orders, I hide an eye roll and do as I'm told. Although delicious the guilt I feel for betraying Vi sours every mouthful, I sip the wine, _sour also_, 'why haven't you said anything about what I wrote', blurts out.

An eyebrow arches in amusement, 'I'm beginning to think the arrogant fuck is the reincarnation of the Marquis de Sade', sarcastically he jokes.

'Your ego bruised his figure for Subs pips yours by twenty', I snap.

'No', he snaps back then his eyes soften, 'look Ana, I know you feel you betrayed Violet but I've got to have my guarantee'.

'But why Christian...he's not going to do anything', bursts in exasperation of going round in circles over this straightforward fact.

'I don't fucking trust him, simple as', a steely toned response.

'How can you get your guarantee when there's nothing to incriminate him', I mumble wearily, Ethan had the good sense to choose Subs carefully, _no unhinged ones in his closet_.

Grey eyes stare into blue weary ones, 'Ana the less you know the better', he murmurs softly, deep hurt surges through me, _he doesn't trust me_, my sub-conscious nods gravely, "_because you can't keep your mouth shut_", 'Ana baby, it's not that I don't trust you, it's for your protection', he adds even more softly, _read my mind precisely_.

'Ok', I acquiesce nodding sadly, 'just promise Christian', searching his eyes, 'if you get your guarantee leave it at that, don't retaliate making matters worse than they already are, please'.

'As I said last night Ana, a guarantee ensures he makes no move, once he doesn't, I won't', sincerely he states, not a flicker in his eyes, I believe him, "_thank you...I love you"_, I mouth too tired to speak.

'I love you baby', he smiles.

We continue our meal, a thought strikes, what if no guarantee is found and Christian's instincts are correct about Ethan, _shit_, then our only trump card is Vi keeping her word.

* * *

By lunchtime despite anxiety causing nausea I read a promising manuscript, it'll be put before my staff for a final decision whether or not to publish it, I replied to all the emails that came in over the weekend and cleared my in-tray of the usual mountain of Monday morning correspondence.

Staring at the lidded tub containing the prawn, mango and avocado salad Gail made for me, I can't face it and eat a yogurt instead, the question of, what's going on at Vi's end rears up for the millionth time, from a drawer of my desk I grab my BlackBerry, scroll through the list of numbers and press to call, it's rings for what seems like an age.

_Maybe she never found her cell...shit…never got my email_, two more rings, 'hi Ana', she answers her voice oddly echoes and it's hoarse.

'Are you ok Vi, you got my email', I bleat in remorse.

'Yeah on both counts', she pauses, 'I was angry with you...not any more...no point really...are you ok', her tone sad, guilt rips through me.

'Yes, I'm so sorry Vi, any repercussions', I ask, silence, 'Vi any repercussions', concern for her rises.

'What kind of repercussions...if you're asking have I told Ethan everything ask outright', a weary tone, _God, that's not what I meant_, in the background I hear a door slamming, 'got to go, I'm not angry with you Ana but don't ring me again', a bare mumble, the lines goes dead.

* * *

For the rest of the day concern for her increased and by six I left SIP shattered, the journey home to Escala with Christian was the same as it always is, we asked and talked about eachother's day. Our lives back to normal, not sure the same can be said for Vi's grimly I thought as Taylor parked the SUV in bay five of the underground car park.

Now, after Gail's evening meal of Chicken Chasseur, which I ate due to hunger but took no pleasure in it, Christian and me are cuddled up on the couch in the TV room with the plasma screen switched on. This is a rarity but there's a documentary he wants to watch, it begins, it's bleak, warning of the adverse effects on mankind if honey making bees become extinct.

Giving my harpy faced sub-conscious one mighty slap that knocks her over, she was ferociously urging me to tell Christian I rang Vi and I'm worried about her, _no...he's keeping me in the dark…..I'll do the same…like I should have done in first place_.

'Ana, I've got to go to Virginia tomorrow morning', he announces during the adverts.

_What_, 'why', I ask suspiciously.

'Tristan's tied up in the ranch, can't get here or NY', he informs then laughs, 'I admit the arrogant fuck was right, João Eduardo got panicky rang me, he's on board so it's all systems go'.

'When will you be back', suspicion growing, Christian always asks me to go on business trips.

'Wednesday night', giving me a smile he then sips his bottle of mineral water.

'I can juggle things at work, come with you, I'd like to see Tristan and Mina', I smile innocently.

A brief spark of evasiveness flashed in his eyes, 'Tristan and I will be working flat out drawing up contracts, you don't like horses Ana, the ranch is out in the middle of nowhere and Mina's not there, she's in NY doing her Stenning PR', tone implying don't push him, nothing can dissuade me he's after his guarantee, how, Tristan has no knowledge of Ethan's sexual past therefore Christian's lying about where he's going. But I have his promise he won't take things further and it's blatant he needs this guarantee to ease his ever present paranoia.

'Ok, point well made regarding the devil spawned four legged creatures Mr Grey', this time I smile sportively, he grins, the documentary resumes, his attention goes to it, I slap the harpy before she gets up and starts needling me again.

* * *

In the dead of night, wide awake, the urge to have my suspicion Christian's not going to Virginia confirmed will not be suppressed, with difficulty I extract myself from his hot vine-like hold, tiptoe from our bedroom then don't stop running until I reach his study.

Letting myself in I go directly to his desk and search the drawers, _oh Ana…..you're equally paranoid_, there's a folder containing a copy of the jet's flight plan to Virginia, directly to the ranch itself, destination is clearly logged as, Stenning-Ranch-Airstrip-1, and gives, for the pilot's benefit, a detailed description of the surface, width and length.

About to leave well and truly pissed at myself for doubting Christian, an eerie feeling grips, I'm lured and gravitate to the safe. Racking my brain to remember the combination a cold sweat breaks out in fear of being caught quickly punching the keypad with numbers I hope are in the correct sequence, I hear the lock click open.

Peering inside, a white folder is the only item out of the ordinary, swiftly I take it out, flip through its contents and can't believe what I'm seeing, to be certain I flip through the pages again, _oh God no…..I have to warn him...this is wrong_.

Carefully I place the folder back exactly where it was, close the safe, and hear it auto lock then silently run from the study, bile rising I divert to the kitchen in a desperate need of water, my tongue is stuck to my palette.

Running the faucet, a cup shakes in my hand, 'Anastasia, how many times have I told you not to drink water from the faucet', Christian's voice from behind makes me jump, in a second his arms seize me, wiping the startled expression off my face, I turn and face his.

'Sorry I forgot', I mumble, the cup is taken and crashes into the sink, his eyes narrow in that all too familiar way.

'Twitching palms, ready to play Ana', he grins in that way I shove my inner goddess in front of me like a shield and smile seductively.

'I am Sir', a purr wafts.

'Good girl, you know what I expect', another grin, he points to the ceiling, yes I do, undress to just my panties, braid my hair, assume the position and wait for you to enter the Red Room of Pain wearing those pale knee ripped jeans and tight tee-shirt, _I will Grey in penance and sufferance_.

* * *

'You'll be late for work Ana baby', Christian smiles, _loving fifty...control freak fifty of last night sated...until the next time_, 'thanks for seeing me off though'.

'Sure', I smile as sweetly as I can, it's windy out here on the tarmac, he tucks my hair behind both ears and pecks my nose, a shiver runs through me but not from the cold, Taylor passes with Christian's overnight luggage in hand, 'first time going to Virginia', I ask him in a light happy tone.

Halting at the steps of the jet, he turns his head, 'yes Mrs Grey, Mr Grey informed Mr Stenning breeds outstanding horses for the quarter mile races', an enthusiastic response, he's beaming then scoots up the steps, _they are going to Virginia…the flight plan wasn't fake_.

'Baby, only back and forth to work ok, drive with care', sternly Christian warns, ironically the firing of Sawyer and Prescott makes my plan a lot easier, Christian for once is taking his sweet time to install replacements, _too preoccupied_.

'Yes Sir', I fake a grin of playfulness, 'give my regards to Tristan and call me the minute you land, you know how I worry'.

'Will do baby, I love you', kissing me, I respond but it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

'I love you', I reply, I do but I can't let him ruin not only their lives but Tristan's and Mina's, my eyes well up.

'I'll miss you too', he whispers, misreading my tears, kisses me again, I watch him turn and climb the steel steps in CEO mode amazed how he'll spend the next thirty six hours or so with Tristan and be able to hide what he suspects.

* * *

Two hours later, not having left Sea-Tac, the SUV's parked on the fourth floor, I'm boarding a British Airways flight to London with an economy ticket paid for in cash. Settled in my seat, sardonically I glance at passengers being ushered to First Class and look at the passengers around me. Mostly tourists looking forward to seeing sights of London, some by their now fading English accents are obviously ex-pats perhaps going home for the first time in years, I close my eyes, wipe away escaped tears with a very small part of me rueing the day I fell into Christian Grey's office.

* * *

Grimly looking out one of the six mullioned windows adorning the hexagon shaped Gothic style bedroom, 'another snow storm', I mutter.

Flurries land on already glistening white covered fields, barns, farmhouses and homes way far off in the distance, as beautiful as it is, desperately, painfully I miss Ethan and want to go home. The castle and our bedroom, glancing at the ornate carved oak Jacobean four poster bed, serve only as a longing yearning reminder of the two nights we spent here on our honeymoon, we've never been here since, _that's wanton extravagance Violet_, 'shut up…..not my fault he's beyond loaded', I scream.

Quickly I walk to another mullioned window, look out, the North Sea's cold waves crash against the cliff's boulders and rocks below the turret. One hits, a silvery grey spray of at least six feet whips up a low flying seagull, _bird's wings are too weak_, I can't see it and presume its little body was crushed against the rocks.

Slumping against the stone window frame thoughts drift back to Ethan, since he left me here Sunday night we've only spoken on the phone, he keeps saying it won't be for much longer and I've no clue what he's doing in RC. On the last call this morning I tried not to sound down in the mouth because he sounded tired but I asked what he was doing, "_safeguarding our privacy_", was all he said.

I broke into tears and blubbered, "_I shot that to shit by yacking to Ana in the first place_". He made me laugh like he always does when cheering me up, "_my love I adore your delectable profanity ridden yacking mouth even more so when my prick is snugly in it"_.

More sobs erupted, "_I wish you and your prick were here now_", I wailed he consoled again saying it won't be for much longer and would ring tonight at the usual time, I blew a kiss down the phone. "_Until later my Lord Spankalot_", I chirped with false cheeriness so he wouldn't have to worry about my sorrowful humour on top of everything else.

He laughed that glorious laugh of his, gets him each and every time the nickname I bestowed on him within the first few weeks of meeting him. "_Until later my darling Lady Rochester_", he whispered tenderly, a knock on the arched timber door with more ancient black iron studs in it than you could shake a stick at breaks my lonesome reverie, 'come in please', I call choking back a sob.

'Mrs Rochester', Mrs Steward's broad smile is like a beam of light cutting through the gloom, 'supper is set', _poor woman_, she'd tried every kind of dish to tempt me but I left my appetite at home.

'I'm not hungry thanks, sorry you went to so much trouble Mrs Steward', I mumble and suddenly can't hold back tears, although I barely know her, she started as Head Housekeeper only a month ago she seizes me in her bulky arms, 'lass all things come to an end, the snow gives way to Spring', her husky voice resonates, _they do come to an end...but how…the sorrow of winter…..or the carefreeness of summer_, 'supper lass, you have to eat something'.

'Ok Mrs Steward', I whisper.

At a slow pace we make way down the cavernous stone spiral stairs, it leads directly into the vast tapestry laden banqueting hall which houses a dining table of epic portions, it's not set for one, not set at all in fact, 'have your supper with Mr Murray and me Mrs Rochester, drafty sitting here all by yourself', she smiles.

I could cry again with gratefulness, 'thanks Mrs Steward I'd love to', she guides, I amble and soon we enter hers and Mr Murray's private cosy sitting room come dining room in either the west or south turret. I'm not a hundred percent sure with all the winding passages, spiral stairs and rooms the castle for me is a maze and if I were given to flights of ghostly thoughts I'd say it's haunted.

Thanking her I take a seat at their modest round table, an open log fire blazes, bunches of dried heather in small vases on the mantelpiece have scented the room with their gentle floral, earthy and herb-like notes, the atmosphere is so homely and welcoming I smile feeling my appetite return.

* * *

Snow's falling lightly but steadily, the iconic black London cab I hopped into at Heathrow Airport comes to a stop before the huge gates of Hillingham Hall. Throughout the journey I struggled to keep nerves from tangling so much unfurling them would be near on impossible.

But nerves did contort when I switched my Blackberry back on and there were three missed calls from Christian, promptly I rang, covering my cell with my hand to block out airport noises, lied said I was in a meeting and couldn't ring any sooner. At his end I could tell he was outdoors the neighing of horses was loud, he didn't sound suspicious, impressed in fact, gushed how extensive and efficient the ranch is, 'one hundred and thirty quid luv', the driver announces through the glass partition bringing me back to here and now.

'Sure', I blither shocked by the amount root through my handbag and realize I don't have enough cash, _shit_, I can't us my AMEX Centurion Card Christian scrutinizes the credit card statements with a fine tooth comb.

_Shit_, I can't go to Manor house, no money there and I'd have some explaining to do when Mr Falkner emails Christian the now due monthly report and how lovely Mrs Grey's unexpected visit was, 'one moment please', I squawk, clamber out of the cab and am instantly surrounded chilled and drenched by heavily falling snow.

Brain freezing from the effect and not capable of thinking clearly frantically I run to the gates, six men in black trench coats converge behind them, their heads and shoulders coated in snow, 'Hillingham Hall is not open to the public Miss', one states sternly.

'I know, I'm a friend of Violet and Ethan, I need to speak to them', I croak, the cab driver's honking his horn impatiently.

'Their Lord and Ladyship's are not in residence', the meanest looking guy on the far right snaps, _what...where are they_, 'go about your business', he adds in another snap.

A sudden downpour of piercing hailstones joins the effects of the nerve racking arduous journey and take their toll, I sink to my knees snow covered gravel crushes into them, lightheaded I feel more against the top of my forehead.

* * *

From head to toe I'm warm, in the back of my mind I know I shouldn't be but it's blissful so I will myself back to sleep. Breathing deeply, on the second breath I smell the sweet scent of hyacinths, _the smell of death_, my eyes open wide in panic.

'Welcome back Anastasia', a quiet silky smooth voice sounds, frantically my eyes dart about a room of Georgian period splendor, they land on Ethan sat on an elegant window seat staring at me, 'you are quite safe, be at ease'.

Head thumping in pain, brain lost, hysterically I cast aside what's covering me, in shock I hop out of what I realize is a bed then to my horror see I'm completely naked, 'Christian', I wail rooted to the spot.

'You do not take be at ease well do you', he smirks dark brown illuminated eyes roam over my body sultrily, instinctively my hands cover my sex and breasts, 'return to bed Anastasia'.

I do, practically diving under the luxurious quilt and stare at him wide eyed, his Byronic beauty is marred only by the blow to his jaw, no swelling just purple and brownish hued bruises, my inner goddess breaks free from the ice tomb she was encased in, the harpy's still out cold in hers, 'why am I naked', blurts out.

'Unwise to put a person to bed whose attire is wet through', _he undressed me_, 'my physician shall be here anon, although it appears you are not seriously injured bar a graze to your forehead and welts to your derrière', another smirk, _shit…..Christian's handy work_, I flush with intense embarrassment, 'excellent, your pallor is not entirely pale, a healthy sign, but better safe than sorry, yes', he grins knowingly.

Flushing worse realizing no man other than Christian has seen me naked, 'Christian will kill you', blithers nonsensically.

'Good grief', he rolls his eyes in amusement, 'judging by his poor crop skill I think not', _holey moley_, how does he know Christian used a crop, my inner goddess hijacks my brain, nothing can stop a visual of Ethan with one in hand

'Who are you to judge crop skill, that's up to the recipient, I may find your skill inept', a disjointed taunting yet seductive purr wafts from nowhere.

Dark brown eyes flicker intensely, 'Anastasia I suggest you compose your sensibilities. To assist, I find your enticements beautiful as one would admire a fine piece of art but not so fine as to tempt a purchase, understood'.

Inner goddess severely insulted stamps her killer heeled feet, 'are you sure I can't tempt you Ethan', another disjointed purr wafts.

Not a hare's breath lingers in the air as he strides to the bed and sits very close to me, a grin parts full lips, his raven black hair gleams, his black suit cladded body smells exotically of spice, ' a fine piece of art you are but again I have no desire to purchase'.

Blind and deaf to the rejection my inner goddess tantalizingly draws the quilt down from my neck, a warm hand clasps over mine before my breasts are exposed, 'desist Anastasia', his eyes pierce through mine, 'I have made myself clear'.

A monsoon of every emotion I felt in the last twenty four hours causes a deluge through my brain effectively drowning the killer heeled goddess, I burst into uncontrollable sobs.

Strong arms wrap around and hold me tight, warmth from his white shirted chest penetrates but peculiarly what feel like hard stones press against my cheek, _whoa…..a nipple piercing_, 'there, there, I apologise for my harshness, no tears Anastasia, you are very beautiful, I surmise many a man would fall to his knees before you',

Raising my head, my cheek brushes against his, tenderly I kiss a bruise, 'thank you', he murmurs then gently reclines me back against the pile of opulent pillows and tucks the quilt chastely about my neck.

Looking down on me I search his eyes and see a clear pure picture of love, if possible his dark brown eyes reflect an elf-like angelic face with large sparkling sapphire blue eyes, 'you really love her don't you', I whisper.

'Yes, she is the very air I breathe', he says in a sigh.

Every synapse in brain charge, the deluge dries up and emotions align, 'where is she', I ask urgently.

'I would rather not say', he answers in a tone of distrust.

'Christian knows', I murmur.

'Yes I am aware of that', he replies and looks at his understated Vacheron Tour de L'Ile watch impatiently.

'I don't mean your past...Vi's...Christian somehow sourced Ryan's death certificate', I stammer.

'What', his eyes open wide in confusion and panic.

'Vi told me of the abuse she suffered, Christian witnessed her showing me the scar to her...emm...breast', his narrow angrily, 'the certificate says death by misadventure but the information Christian's gathered so far is pointing to a cover up which implicates you', I take a hesitant breath, 'he made a promise to me once he got his own guarantee he wouldn't take things further…..but I'm no longer sure…..I had to warn you'.

'Achilles heel', a mere murmur, then seeing the magnificent proud elegant man before me cradle his head in his hands expression bereft, crestfallen, tears spring from my eyes, 'if acquisition of RC is Christian's quest Anastasia then so be it. I hope he will delve deeper before striking or meet me face to face for the truth. For I shall soundly divulge all regarding one Mr Ryan Holt, also inform my beloved Violet is manic bipolar, ECT erased the memory of her crime but unfortunately not the abuse she suffered', _oh good God...no…no…oh God_.

Heart wrenching painfully I sit up and take him forcibly in my arms, he sags against my naked shoulder, 'I am a proud man Anastasia. Rightly or wrongly I keep my love's condition and crime hidden, from Tristan, my beloved cousin Mina, Camilla, Geoffrey and all who know and love her. Love her for what she truly is, a fragile ethereal spirit who exudes pure love and compassion, I shall protect her no matter what befalls'.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

_Why didn't Ethan ring at one minute to seven_, I check my mobile, it's showing thirteen minutes past, _for Pete's sake Violet he's busy…safeguarding_, 'yeah that's it', I go back to staring at the bed's crimson red canopy above me deciding to give it ten minutes or so then ring.

Thoughts flit from one thing to another, the one my mind settles on is Ana, I regret telling her not to call me again, _she did sound genuinely sorry and sad_, scrolling to her number I jolt bolt upright as my mobile rings, _Ethan_, heart leaps, 'hi', quickly I answer.

'Dia duit stranger', he greets.

'Oh Gabe, hi yourself, not heard from you in yonks, how are they hanging', I smile.

'Dangling to the left, Michelle has me wrecked', he laughs.

I laugh, 'how's all with her and Millie'.

'Tripping along, enjoying your holiday up in Haggis Land', he jokes, _oh_, he must have been chatting to Ethan.

'Yeah I am', idly I fidget with a tassel of a poster's drape, 'snow, blazing log fires, very restful'.

'Bejazus you should've dragged Ethan with you for a rest, he looks like shite', _a lot on his mind Gabe_. About to ask when he saw him, "_Gabegabe the dough is ready, throw it up in the air to make my pizza_", Millie's sweet voice shrills excitedly in the background, 'two tics Vi babe...due minuti mio amore Millyfilly, lavare i pomodori prima, two minutes Millyfilly, wash the tomatoes first, only the tomatoes, no Barbie dolls this time', his loving voice full of pride teaches and explains, what a lovely snippet of happy family life, I sigh.

'Back with you Vi, as I was saying he looks like shite, thought it was the Elephant Man knocking back Scotch when I swung by on my way to pick Millie up from the monster in law an hour ago', _Ethan's home...why didn't he come here_, 'bejazus Orpheus is as mad as snake, after a hoof in face like that I'd have put the fucker down'.

'Yeah', I blurb distractedly fingers twisting the tassel's silk strands.

'Oh yah before I forget, mark in your diary Vi, last weekend in April, a shindig in our gaff in Amalfi to celebrate my gallery's first successful year'.

'Will do, count us in', again a distracted blurb.

'Great, got to go, rescue either Millie or the tomatoes, slán leat'.

'Slán Gabe', ending the call I scroll immediately to his number and tap to call.

Two rings, 'my love, I was on the point of calling you, I apologise I am rather late on this occasion', his voice sounds croaky, _Ethan's voice never croaks_.

'Are you ok Ethan', I ask.

'Of course', voice normal, _Highland's altitude playing tricks on your ears Violet_, 'how are you my love'?

'Grand, missing you milord', I smile, 'but miffed why you're at home and didn't come straight here from RC, Gabe just called, said he thought you were the Elephant Man knocking back Scotch, pretty nifty of you blaming poor lame Orpheus'.

"_Ethan_", a faint voice, for a split second a whirl of confusion whips through my brain, _for fuck sake Violet get a grip...Ana lives in Seattle...altitude_, he laughs loudly, 'quite descriptive of Gabriel', I hear a door closing, 'dear oh dear, poor lame Orpheus, the best excuse I could muster. My love I arrived home earlier in the day with Holland to ascertain all is well, which it is'.

Relived about that, 'everything ok with RC', I ask finally releasing the tassel.

'Indeed, enhanced security measures in place, all is well', he murmurs.

'Great, home I go', blurts with more relief, I'm off the bed and heading for the cavernous dressing room to pack.

A deep sigh resonates in my ear, 'the day after tomorrow my love'.

'No I want to go home now, the castle's haunted', I snap.

'Violet heed, I said the day after tomorrow', a stern tone that's not to be argued with, 'I assure Aberdeely Castle is not haunted, not a ghoul, poltergeist or clanking chain to be had', he adds woefully hiding amusement.

'Fine, the day after tomorrow', I huff, 'oh yeah, Gabe said last weekend in April, party to celebrate his gallery's first year, their gaff in Amalfi. We should go we could do with a bit of craic'.

'I concur on the craic, we shall discuss the matter closer to the time', a distracted reply, _he's not interested so we're not going_, annoyance bubbles, 'my love I shall call you tomorrow I must away, have a pleasant night'.

'Ok, until tomorrow', I end the call, let out another huff, hurl my mobile onto the bed and run to the bathroom with a nice long bath in mind to erase annoyance.

* * *

Up to my neck in bubbly water, muscles relax, I close my eyes and breathe deeply, warm floral steam soaks my nostrils, Ethan and Gabe's conversations float round my mind, brain focuses on Ethan's, _stubborn to a fault...well...I've had enough_. I'm out of the bath in two seconds flat.

Within fifty minutes I leave the castle's grounds via its allocated high spec fandangled Range Rover with terse SatNav lady telling me my journey time is eight hours and forty four minutes and to turn right. Slowly I do, it's not snowing but driving conditions aren't great, fumbling with the controls I manage to turn on the jeep's headlights and squash marginal guilt caused my skulduggery.

Marginal only because I got the strong sense if I told Mrs Steward I'm going home she'd have contacted Ethan and he'd have banged on and on until I caved. So I lied, said I was having an early night and didn't want to be disturbed until the morning, 'anyway it's about time Ethan learned to stop being so bloody overcautious and protective...it's driving me loopey and he'll end up getting one massive stress related hernia for his trouble'.

Eyes glued to the road, terse SatNav lady wittering, I can't help laughing at my abysmal stealth skills, it took me ten minutes alone to find a rear door, the huge heavy front ones would have creaked and echoed too much. But I was clever enough taking the route to the stable that was converted into a garage via snow covered shrubbery, 'maybe not though', shifting uncomfortably in the cream leather seat, 'I'm soaked through...bloody hell that's all I need...pneumonia', I crank the heating system up to full.

* * *

The sumptuous bath I took after Dr Maher came and left did little to eradicate twisted nerves, the soft comforting towelling bathrobe I'm wearing is doing little also as tentatively I press the button to make the call, 'Ana baby', he answers after the usual two rings.

'Hi Christian', barely the words come out.

'Baby what's wrong', he asks instantly.

'Are with Tristan'?

'No we've stopped for a break, he's outside with the ranch manager, why', tone perplexed.

'I need you to listen carefully', a sharp intake of breath I hear, 'what I'm going to say, you can't repeat to Tristan, tell me you won't'.

'What's this about Ana', concern rises in his voice.

'Give me your solemn word first Christian'.

'Ok, you have it', quickly he replies, my breath inhales sharply then I tell him what I've done and what Ethan said about Vi.

Complete silence, 'Christian'.

No response, 'Christian, face to face he'll tell you everything, you'll have your guarantee, then all this can end, I'm leaving Hillingham Hall for Manor house'.

Again no response, 'please Christian talk to me, I beg you', the line goes dead, my heart hammers against my ribcage.

Hastily I dress in the clothes I arrived in, they've been perfectly laundered and pressed by I presume a member of staff. As hastily I grab my handbag and Blackberry, automatically check for a missed call or email, _none_, bleakly I look around the exquisite guest suite.

Momentarily I stare at the classic crystal vase on the ornate elegant dressing table showing casing beautifully arranged mauve, cream and pale pink hyacinths, their scent forever engrained in my mind, swiftly I leave the suite.

Embarrassingly a member of staff who's vigorously vacuuming the corridor's plush cream carpet has to direct me in the opposite direction for the main staircase, cheeks flushed I reach them, recognize the grand hall below and hurriedly descend to the first landing.

As I continue I try hard to ignore the portraits of ancestors that seem to be glaring at me, their disapproving eyes following me, eyes mist as they glance over Vi's and Ethan's hung prominently and proudly.

Stumbling on the last two steps I cling to a balustrade before I fall, 'is all well Anastasia', Ethan's voice wafts, I look to see him striding across the hall from the direction of the library, 'shall I summon the physician again', tone concerned.

'No thank you', I mumble, 'I've called Christian, relayed what you said about talking to him I'm ready to leave'.

'Very well', he eyes me closely, 'I shall gladly summon a driver but I suggest you take nourishment first', frantically shaking my head, 'I insist Anastasia, come, this way', he gestures to somewhere, too dizzy to move, 'good grief twice in one day', in a second I'm swept up into his arms and carried.

'Put me down', I protest flashbacks of being naked in bed holding him in my arms crash waves of dizziness and embarrassment around my brain.

'Indeed not, you are exceptionally wilful but you will eat before your departure to Manor house', I can't tell by his tone if he's amused or annoyed but he's certainly not embarrassed.

Setting me down in front of a door, only for a handle you wouldn't know it's there, it blends seamlessly with the subtly gilded wall. Opening it, he ushers me into a traditional style kitchen, although humongous it's warm, homely, 'private family kitchen', he murmurs and directs me to the large chunky wooden table, pulls out a chair, I sit.

In silence I watch him go to a slim chrome freestanding water cooler fill a glass, stride back to the table and hand it to me, sipping at first then I gulp it down, I was parched, 'more', he asks, I nod, 'of course, please do make yourself comfortable Anastasia', he nods, indicating my coat.

While I shrug it off, place it and my handbag on the chair next to me he has the glass refilled and placed on the table, 'sip this time, do not gulp, cold water on an empty stomach is not pleasant', a brief smile then he walks with ease and elegance to a huge shiny black fridge.

Only now I notice he's barefoot wearing well-worn faded black jeans and his black U2 tee-shirt with Achtung Baby emblazoned across it has seen better days, 'are you a fan of U2', blithers.

'Longstanding yes', he replies bringing a glass lidded dish over to a state of the art range, opens the door of the one of the stoves, places the dish inside, closes the door and sets the digital controls, 'ummmm', his eyebrow arches in thought, 'what say you to a red to accompany venison casserole'.

'I don't mind', I mumble unsure why he's asking me, he strolls to an antique Welsh dresser, opens a lower cupboard, extracts a bottle of wine from several that are racked, 'this should suffice', brings it to the table, 'have you quite recovered from light headedness', he asks, I nod, 'excellent therefore may I trouble you to set the table, all you require is contained within the drawers of the dresser'.

He walks off to the far side of the kitchen, I get up, make my way to it, steadier on my feet than I thought I'd be, knowing nothing but trouble and strife lie ahead once Christian arrives in Hillingham, "_which he will Ana_", my sub-conscious hiding behind a couch fearfully whispers.

Knives, forks and plain pale green linen napkins gathered I bring them to the table, melodic rhythmical music quietly fills the air, glancing, it's coming from an iPod docked in a sleek contemporary docking station, 'not to your taste', he asks stood by it.

Listening intently, a male voice is singing in a language I've never heard before along with women's, it's exotic and atmospheric, 'I like it, what is it'?

'This particular track is entitled Tenhert by a band named Tinariwen', suddenly he grins, 'I took the liberty of commencing iPod roulette', _what_, 'shuffle mode, what will be the next'.

'I suspect you know your playlist inside and out Ethan', I state and begin setting the table.

Aware he's strolling back to the fridge, 'perhaps but the point is in which order they shall play', a mutter, he takes from the fridge a stainless steel bowl containing ingredients to make a salad and brings it a large white enamel sink which is in keeping with the traditional style of the kitchen.

My job done, I sit, sip the water and watch him wash cucumber, tomatoes, spring onions and various types of lettuce and endive, to distract from the myriad of questions punching my brain I concentrate on the song, discreetly extract my Blackberry from my handbag, _no emails…..missed calls…..nothing_.

'Anastasia', his tone low, quiet, he's skilfully peeling the cucumber, 'I appreciate you are anxious but it shall take Christian near on nine hours to arrive in Hillingham, may I suggest you try for now to relax and enjoy a meal'.

'How do you know he's on his way', I blurb, he turns his head and looks at me.

'It is what I would do in his shoes and besides I conversed with Tristan not ten minutes ago', _oh God_, a startled expression widens my eyes, 'be at ease, Christian, to his credit, did not divulge anything regarding Violet, an urgent business matter was his explanation', I sigh in relief, 'to reiterate, for now try to relax and enjoy a meal'.

A brief smile, he continues rapidly prepping the ingredients, I find it surprising the calming effect he's able to instil despite the great pressure he must be under, 'how do you cope with Vi's condition', one of the burning questions escapes my mouth.

Keeping his back turned, 'suffice to say as best I can, Anastasia Violet is no different from any person, we all have our ups and downs, hers can be in the extreme but on the whole she functions well'.

'But isn't it reckless of you to have Sub Dom sessions with her, after the abuse she suffered and ECT', one of the most disturbing questions pops out.

Turning round he brings the bowl of prepared ingredients to the table, calmly his eyes assess mine, 'although a private matter I shall inform, first comprehend, Violet and I conduct Sub Dom sessions by mutual consensual request. Prior to commencement of a session we converse at length, imperative I ascertain her motives for requesting and she mine, if on the same wavelength it goes ahead, if not then it does not. After a session again at length we converse to ascertain misgivings or misunderstandings and resolve any if applicable. Second, Violet informed she finds sessions beneficial, in her words, "swirly twirly flaming fucking thoughts having a field day in my head take a hike up a mountain, like a retreat or sabbatical Ethan, then when they hike back down they're a lot less flaming and fucking annoying", take from that what you will Anastasia', _gosh…..not only does he understand her completely they obviously communicate with each other in depth_.

His eyes don't leave mine, 'I concede the aforementioned safeguards were not in place at your abode but my duty was and is to protect her. Strongly I suspected she made mention of one Mr Holt therefore I required the focus to be solely on me and executed my plan rapidly and efficiently', he sighs, 'not successfully as we now know. Perhaps when the facts in their entirety are made known to Christian, he may be forthcoming with regards to his intentions. Now with respect Anastasia I no longer wish to converse further on any of the issues'.

'I understand, let's have a nice meal as you said', I smile truly amazed by his honesty and gallantry.

'If you would be so kind as to finish the salad, I believe a French dressing can be found in the fridge, I must check on the casserole', another brief smile, he strolls to the range, I to the fridge, ears tune into a song the iPod shuffled onto, sudden laughter erupts and boy does it feel good.

'Your amusement Anastasia', he asks, _can he not hear it_.

Quickly grabbing a bottle of what's obviously homemade dressing, I close the fridge door, 'that song', I can't stop laughing.

Inclining his head, he listens and laughs heartily, 'ah yes, Horse Outside is the song's title, quite satirical, one of Violet's, indeed my love possesses a rather quirky sense of humour'.

* * *

Safely parked in a motorway's layby, my sodden clothes got the better of me, between the front seats I clamber into the back of the jeep, rummage in my overnight travel bag and pull out my pink and white stripped flannel pj's, 'I'll look great in these when I get home', I laugh

In total darkness, bar headlights from the sparse cars zooming by and the motorway's very few and far between overhead lights, with difficulty I strip off my wet clinging clothes and underwear. Searching the bag and furtively keeping watch, _shit_, no underwear to be found, _you packed in a hurry Violet…yeah, yeah, yeah…..I know_, swiftly I grapple into the pj's, no socks either, _fuck_, feet too cold to wedge back into soggy trainers, 'oh well…..complete the mad ensemble, drive barefoot...sorted'.

Back in the driver's seat, I start up the jeep, consult terse SatNav lady who tells me I've seven hours still to go, huffing because it seems to me I've been driving for an age, I launch back onto the motorway and drive faster than I normally would.

As you can't go wrong on a motorway with signs everywhere I switch her off, _sick of her sour voice anyway_, switch on the music system, a radio channel is belting out one of my favourite songs, 'I'm in the bedroom…with tissues and when I know you're outside banging but I won't let you in…..cos it's a hard life with love in the world…and I'm a hard girl...loving me is like chewing on pearls', I warble along to my heart's content.

* * *

'Delicious Ethan', a mouthful of tender delicately seasoned venison slid down my throat, 'did you make it', I ask before sipping the equally delicious dark red wine.

'I did indeed', he grins, 'Mrs Beeton personified', I laugh, 'when time affords I cook dishes in quantities and freeze portions'.

'Husbandry in heaven', jokingly I quip a phrase from Macbeth.

'Wise always for the kitchen', he laughs looks out the charming windows, 'the heavens are not thrifty this night', I follow his gaze, the inky black night sky is clear of snow clouds, the stars shine bright, to the far right of a window frame half a bulbous full moon is visible.

Looking back, he's resumed eating, slouched casually yet elegantly in the chair, expression unreadable, I resume eating, the iPod's wafting another song I've never heard before, the melody flows, "_the width of a room that can hold so much pleasure inside_", the man's hauntingly beautiful voice resonates in my ears, _our Red Room of Pain_, 'nice song, what's it called', I blurb.

'Nightporter by, in my opinion a much underrated band of the eighties, Japan', he replies blankly, sips his wine.

'One of yours or Vi's', I ask.

'Mine', he murmurs.

'The lyrics are lovely', I express then remember he's seen the room, cheeks flush redder than the wine, sipping it I'm unable to meet his eyes.

'I concur lovely indeed', a tone with no trace of sexual innuendo or mockery, _"why would there be Ana...get a hold of yourself"_, the harpy shouts, 'Anastasia I shall adjust the iPod if this particular track discomforts'.

Glancing at my BlackBerry's screen, 'no it's fine', I reply disillusioned, saddened there are no emails or missed calls from Christian, the harpy retreats behind her couch expression beyond anxious.

'Anastasia', his silky quiet voice draws my attention, 'I comprehend your concern, conclude your meal I shall make ready a driver', he gets up from the table, idiotically I laugh, the iPod shuffled onto a Christmas song, _surreal and ridiculous_, 'roulette indeed, good grief', he laughs.

'Don't please, the driver I mean', I can't face yet leaving the warmth for the inevitable cold which eight hours or so will bring, 'the song yes', I add successfully holding back tears.

'Very well', he strolls to the docked iPod, his back turned I down the remaining wine in my glass in a gulp, 'what say you to Vivaldi's Spring, more apt, or do you care to hear something else', he asks turns his head and smiles, _oh God...that beguiling smile_, thankfully after the deluge my inner goddess is washed up on a desert island where she'll stay.

'No to Vivaldi, I'm not a fan, pick something yourself Ethan', I smile in return and continue eating.

'Ummmm...what to choose', he murmurs, 'ah, yes, Bolero by Ravel, this piece affords memories', _oh...of what_, it begins, he saunters back to the table, sits, grins and refills both glasses.

Inwardly I scoff and snort at my inner goddess slinking across golden sands in time to the music like Cleopatra in search of Mark Antony, 'what memories', out of sheer nosiness I ask.

'My second governess, a woman with an obsession for bridge and the clarinet, under her tutelage I mastered both, this', he waves his hand indicating what we're listening to, 'her favourite piece. Peculiarly she had a repugnance to the name Ethan, to this day I cannot fathom why, she always addressed by my second, Laurence, or Laurie if mood jovial'.

'Why didn't your parents just tell her to stop', I interrupt in a giggle, _Laurie_, a flash of emotion sparks in his eyes, sadness, what, _oh God_, I think I put my foot in it.

'The woman was my second governess hired by my Uncle not my parents who alas were deceased at that time', he replies blankly.

'I'm so sorry Ethan', I blither and resist the urge to hold his hand that's wrapped round his glass to offer sympathy and comfort.

'No apology required Anastasia', a low murmur, he looks at the plate before me, nearly scraped clean so too is the side plate, only remnants of the light delicious salad remain, 'you were hungry', a sudden smile, 'have you room for dessert'?

'Yes', I smile rationalizing by staying a while longer I can be of comfort, "_you don't want to face what's coming Ana_", the harpy snivels, I nudge the couch with my knee jamming her against a wall.

He laughs expression recognition, 'what', I ask.

'My Mrs Beeton skills regarding desserts are none existent therefore rather than summon staff all I can offer is a tub of Häagen Dazs or fruit', _whoa_, what Christian said on our flight back to Seattle from England flies through my mind, "_understandable to a degree, born into the Aristocracy and the British stiff upper lip old boy_", he's not arrogant, within the constraints of his upbringing and position he's as down to earth as the next person.

'If his Lordship allows', I grin, his eyebrow arches, expression mirth, 'a melding of the two, fruit and ice cream, I'll do the honours'.

'Thank you Anastasia, appreciated', he replies in a tone of sincerity and nods with a warm smile.

As I go about the kitchen with very little grace and lot of searching in cupboards for utensils and ingredients, we chat, comfortably about our childhoods, life in general. Coming across a congested memo board of photos, a calendar with dates for this month January circled in red, numerous lists, a handwritten note in a childlike scribble catches my eye, "_Rochester, for the last time before I lose my larynx, stop leaving your unmentionables and wet towels on the bathroom floor. I pick them up before our staff are subjected, what next, loo lid left up, toothpaste tube squeezed from the middle not the bottom. You're only here weekends and cause domestic ructions, love you btw, Vi _".

Laughing, _an insight into their true lives_, 'one of many dotted around Hillingham Hall', he laughs, I look at him, he's holding his hands up in acquiesce, 'I do have failings, allow me to assist in completion of dessert'.

* * *

He did, a different wine accompanying my very well put together dessert of hulled strawberries, peeled pear chunks, a spattering of ruby red pomegranate seeds on top of a dollop of vanilla ice cream, is delicious.

'You've told me so much about yourself Ethan outside of what I know', I murmur, place the spoon on the table next to my empty bowl, 'I didn't expect that', I add then wipe my mouth with the napkin.

'Look to me Anastasia', softly he murmurs, I do and stare into dark brown flickering eyes, 'thank you'.

'For what', I ask in surprise.

'For the solace and kinship your company afforded this night', a gentle reply, 'time now for you to proceed to Manor house'.

Horrible cold within grips, 'can I stay a while longer', blurts.

Regarding me closely, 'if you wish', an understanding smile, 'we shall keep track of time, would you object to filling the time by watching a film in the den yonder', he points to a door on the far right of the kitchen and suppresses laughter, 'an opportunity to strike the last one off the to watch list, creator of said list, Violet'.

Warmth overriding cold, 'I don't mind, what is it, White Chicks, Shawshank Redemption', I giggle.

In laughter he shakes his head, 'no, those were last month, a film entitled Dogma, reliably informed by Violet a tale of renegade angels and Alanis Morissette as God is only the bees knees she said'.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Tired but very happy to have made it to Brompton, 'only eighteen more miles', I chirp, dawn has well broken but it's a cloudy greyish, pinkish morning indicating a fresh crop of snow, a flashing red light on the dash grabs my attention, _oh the fuel gauge_.

'Best fill Roger Range Rover up', I laugh and continue driving to the outskirts of Brompton where I remember there's a twenty four hour petrol station.

Soon I drive into the forecourt, park and slip on my fully dried trainers, I wedged their tongues into the heater vents which did the trick, rooting in my travel bag I grab my purse and hop out.

Stumped as I don't know where to stick the nozzle of the fuel hose, _bollix_, I look around for an attendant, none to be found, or customers, I ignore the smarmy grinning teenaged boy looking at me out the window of the shop. Eventually, after searching the flanks of the jeep, I find the flush little door concealing the fuel tank cap, unscrew it and eye the pump's indicator clocking up the monetary value.

With precision I stop at seventeen pounds and forty nine pence as I've only got a twenty note in my purse, trudge into the shop trying not to giggle realising what the boy was grinning about, a deranged looking woman in her pj's.

Tallying up on the cash register the petrol, Mars bar and packet of Walker cheese and onion crisps, 'nice ride luv', he says with a grin.

'Thanks', I hand over the money.

'On the school run', _what_, blatantly he stares at my boobs, _cheeky bloody smartarse_.

Red faced, 'yeah', I grab the crisps and Mars bar.

'Luv you put the fuck into MILF ', a smartarsed smirk.

'Keep the change, buy yourself a tube of Clearasil and a smut free mind', I snap and belt it out of the shop.

Packet of crisps savaged, crumbs all over me and the seat, last bite of Mars melting in my mouth, Roger Range Rover is hopping along the south road which joins the east that bypasses Hillingham Village. _You realise Ethan will be livid Violet_, swallowing, 'yeah but he'll have to suck it up, we'll chat, shag then to bed I go, I could sleep for a million years'.

_What the fuck_, Roger's making clumping spluttering noises and slowly as if seizing up grinds to a halt, 'bollix', I mutter in annoyance, fumble and fiddle with every control, try the ignition, nothing but grinding and more sputtering, 'oh for fuck sake'.

Drumming the steering wheel wondering what to do, _phone home_, extracting my mobile from my travel bag,_ crap_, useless, battery dead as a doornail, charger back in Aberdeely. Shrugging on my Barbour jacket, I locate the lever that pops the bonnet, hop out, scoot to and lift it, staring at the shiny metal innards of Roger blankly, _exactly what magical mechanics course did you take Violet_, down goes the bonnet with a thud.

Hopping into Roger's backseat, too tired to trek all the way to Hillingham Village, I curl up my legs, rest my head against the window and keep watch for a passing motorist who might have a mobile I can use or knows how to fix the jeep.

'So close and yet so far', I murmur, eyes drifted across the fields, valley and forest where a partial view of the lake, topiary gardens and Hillingham Hall is visible. Glibly laughing at the thought if I started a fire, sent up smoke signals Ethan would see them, 'probably not...still snoring his head off tucked up in bed I'd say', yawns attack in succession, eyelids grow heavy.

* * *

"_Violet_", floats round my brain, 'five more minutes Ethan, don't burn the toast', eyes wielded shut, snuggling deeper into the warmth, "_Violet, wake up_", why Ethan's voice morphed into an American accent I'll never know but he's burning the toast, the smell is gross, 'feck off, five minutes, toast burning, marmalade, candyfloss', I wave my arm to pat him away, hand hits off his face and is held, "_Violet wake up_".

'Your one pain in the arse Rochester', tiredly I grumble, struggle out of sleep, bleary eyed, I blink, focus on him and scream in fright.

'Sorry for frightening you', Christian says looking not one bit sorry, he lets go of my hand.

'Hi', a confused blither, eyes dart about the room I'm in, _the secondary drawing room of Manor house_, 'nice to see you again...in Hillingham', in a flap I cast aside a travel rug and get up off the couch flop back down with a massive head rush.

'Tea Taylor', he barks, my eyes dart to the door opening and recognise stern faced Mr Taylor, 'head between your knees', a snappy tone directed at me.

I do without hesitation because with the anger radiating from him I'd say he could combust, _oh shit_, no wonder, flashbacks of Seattle ensue, 'I'm really sorry about what happened in Seattle', _where's Ana_, 'emm...are you and Ana having a short break'.

'Shut up', he hisses, my mouth gapes open I ease up, he stands and starts pacing the room fists clenched.

'Can I just ask how I got here because I'm a bit foggy on that', I whisper.

Glaring at me, 'found you in a jeep', _oh Roger Range Rover_, 'we didn't see it in time, rear ended it, you were thrown to the floor, passed out. Could have been worse, if you were in the front you'd have been blasted by the air bags deploying, Taylor's a trained paramedic, you're fine', _explains why I don't remember a thing_.

Suddenly aware my pj's smell of burnt toast or more like gunpowder now that I think about it, a chill runs through me, 'oh fuck...was anyone injured...was Ana?'

'You answer my questions', he snaps, I jolt startled, 'what were you doing, where were you going?'

Racking my brain, 'going home...I didn't mean to say to Ana never call me again, please tell me if she's ok'.

'Where were you coming from to say you were going home', he ignores what I asked, _he must be here on his own_, probably checking on Manor house's refurbishments.

'From Aberdeely', _fuck_, Ethan doesn't know I'm here, 'can I use a phone or a mobile please', his glare intensifies, grey eyes flickering thunderously, I shift uncomfortably on the couch, a throbbing headache begins to pound.

'Why were you in Aberdeely, how long were you there', he ignores my request, starts pacing again.

'Since Sunday night, Ethan thought it best I stay there while he...emmm...sorted stuff', a bare mumble, my mouth gapes open again I've never seen a person's expression shift to what can only be described as pure rage, 'can I please use a phone'.

Mr Taylor enters the room carrying a cup, Christian charges to him, takes it, 'get out', he orders, 'go to the jeep tow it back here'.

Mr Taylor glances at me, 'with all due respect Mr Grey', a hesitant pause, 'she's defenseless and after an accident Sir', barely I hear him say under his breath, fear bubbles within, fingers twist and fidget with the fringed edge of the travel rug.

'I said go to the fucking jeep tow it back', a growl, Mr Taylor retreats, Christian slams the door nearly taking it off its hinges, strides over to me and holds out the cup, 'drink'.

Shaking my head, 'I want to go home', bursting into tears I pull the rug up to my chin.

'I'll fucking bring you home when I'm good and ready, drink this', he seethes, I shake my head, screech, the cup flies over my head, hits a wall, smashes into smithereens, tea runs down the delicately patterned pastel wallpaper, 'where was Ethan while you were in Aberdeely'.

'RC', I blurt stunned.

'For the whole time', he snarls in a biting accusatorial tone.

'No...he went home yesterday to check on things', snivelling I wipe away more tears with the sleeve of my pj's, the horrible stink shoots up my nose, 'look Christian...I don't know what's going on but'.

'Shut up', he roars, towering over me, stance foreboding, expression malicious along with rage, _protect yourself_, a voice in the back of my mind tells me, the only way I can think of to do that has me edging off the couch, sinking to my knees before him, head and eyes cast down in a display of submission.

Holding my breath, silence goes on and on, beneath the hems of his dark navy jeans white Converse laces are showing I focus on them, 'does Mrs Ridiculous Ladyship wants to play', a mocking snarl breaks the silence, _no but if it calms you down_.

Remaining silent, no clue how he orders a reply, Ethan just says, respond.

'Answer', he snaps, _ok...answer is his prompt_.

'Yes Sir', a bare murmur wafts from my mouth.

* * *

The ringing of a cell tries to rouse me, _not my ring tone_, my cheek against warmness with two small points of hardness moves and settles, my hand wipes away drool from the corner of my mouth, the ringing gets louder, 'answer your cell Christian'.

"_Good grief_", I hear, _what_, my eyes shoot wide open in shock, hands on my shoulders ease me up from his chest, 'be upright Anastasia', I do in more shock, Ethan reaches for his cell on the coffee table, it stops ringing before he can answer, he looks at the screen quizzically.

_Holey fuck_, in a total panic I jump off the couch, brain alerts I'm dressed so is he, 'what happened…..did we have…..emmmm…..sex and dress again', blurts frenziedly.

He looks at me incredulously, 'indeed not, good grief Anastasia where are your sensibilities, a clear case of overindulging in wine throughout Dogma, evidently we slumbered', he frowns at the screen.

'But how did I end up sleeping practically on top of you', I squawk in relief and confusion.

Another incredulous look, 'I was slumbering Anastasia, perhaps you crawled along the sofa in yours', pressing a button he puts the cell to his ear, sits up and springs from the couch, 'Mrs Steward the purpose of your call', as he listens the blood drains from his face, 'I see…..no…no apology required', he ends the call.

'Holland', a roar that could crumble Hillingham Hall releases.

'What's wrong Ethan', in a flummox I ask.

Holding up a forefinger, 'be hushed please', he scrolls for a number, taps to call, obviously it rings out, an expression of anxiety and concern sets on his face, he charges from the cosy den, I follow bewildered, _oh fuck…the time…..Christian must be in Hillingham by now_, unjammed from behind her couch my sub-conscious is too afraid to come out.

A sharp suited man enters the kitchen from the adjacent utility room where beyond a door is closing on a long stark corridor, I recognize him as the one behind the gates who said, "_go about my business_", he scowls at me openly, 'Holland', Ethan addresses him sharply, 'contact Tyler in RC Air, via the GPS system have him locate vehicle fifty nine and place h two on standby'.

'Yes your Lordship', the man nods leaves going back the way he came in a flash.

'I'd better go Ethan, Christian's probably here', I run to the kitchen table, grab my Blackberry, _shit_, battery dead, shove it into my handbag and grab my coat.

'Yes, most likely', a distracted reply he's strolling to a coffee maker, 'espresso'?

'No will you ring a taxi please', I blither tension setting in fast.

'I shall summon a driver by the time I do the coffee shall be made', tension palpable in his tone.

'What's wrong Ethan', I ask, on autopilot he's placing two tiny cups under the machine's nozzles, punches a button, rapidly the cups fill, a rich aroma of coffee drifts.

'In my wisdom', he scoffs, 'I brought Violet to Aberdeely Castle Sunday gone after she received your email', _oh God_, 'my thought, in the peaceful care of the housekeeper and caretaker she would not be troubled while I', he eyes me cautiously then nods, 'put in place safeguards for RC', bringing the cups to the table, 'Anastasia at some point last night she departed, no doubt for home, evident she has not arrived'.

'But surely SD is with her', I point out.

A deep sigh, he sips his, 'SD does not sit well with Violet, in my wisdom again', another scoffing tone, 'and taking into consideration the castle's remoteness I thought her residence there would be less intrusive without'.

'How long is the journey', abject concern for Vi rises I sip the warming dark brown liquid in the hope it'll ease the churning in my stomach.

'Weather conditions as they were, eight, nine hours', fear of the unknown is projected in his eyes, in silence we sip our coffees, a surge of unadulterated guilt for betraying her and Christian overwhelms, gnaws at my very soul, 'Anastasia', a gentle tone, understanding joins the fear in his eyes , 'no ill or wrong to our respective spouses has been done, rather unwise to berate ourselves needlessly', a brief reassuring smile, _oh I did do wrong, not physically but mentally_.

Convincingly I nod in agreement but know in my heart from now on guilt will forever be present, he looks at Mr Holland returning to the kitchen, the man's wary and determined expression causes my stomach to clench and breath to catch in the back of my throat, 'yes Holland', Ethan's steady tone disguises fear.

'Your Lordship a private word please', sternly Mr Holland states.

'Speak freely Holland', tersely Ethan orders.

'Not in front of her', a scornful tone.

'You forget yourself Holland, Mrs Grey is a guest to be addressed in a congenial manner', Ethan snaps so harshly it halts my move to leave the kitchen.

'Certainly your Lordship, I apologise Mrs Grey', he replies in a conciliatory tone, nods at me, I nod in return, 'Sir vehicle fifty nine's location has been pinpointed, the drive of Manor house', Ethan looks at me I look at him in a quandary of confusion, _Vi's with Christian_.

Ethan's eyes don't leave mine, 'Holland, assume a post in the hall', near to a growl he orders.

'Sir', Mr Holland's concerned voice wafts, 'immediate departure to Manor house'.

'Dismissed Holland', Ethan viciously hisses, by peripheral vision I see him leave, 'Anastasia by no means I wish to offend. Regarding Christian's rage, how stable is he, my beloved is vulnerable'.

Whether he didn't mean to offend or not he did, 'of course Christian's stable Ethan, regularly he goes to Dr Flynn', indignantly I state.

'What', his eyes widen startled, 'what kind of physician, for what purpose'?

_Shit_, he really doesn't know, Vi said nothing, "_Christian's lost control, he'll beat seven shades of shit out of her_", my ashen faced sub-conscious peeping around the couch shouts, 'Anastasia answer me please', an emphatic tone.

_No…no…..my lost boy, my Christian would never do that_, swallowing a sudden lump in my throat, tears pool, "_Ana he's with a woman who's bipolar_", hysterically the harpy shouts, _oh holey shit_, 'did Vi kill that boyfriend of hers', blurts fearfully.

'No', he states in astonishment, 'please answer my question Anastasia'.

'You said her crime Ethan', disjointedly I snap.

'Yes, I considered her unwillingness under my protection to bring the prick to justice a crime, immoral in fact. How could one not in the knowledge the misogynist is free to inflict mental and physical abuse on another woman or several, unfathomable, I could not allow it', his eyes blaze into mine then shift to sadness, 'I coerced her, Holt's trial albeit short took its toll alarmingly, I placed her in the care of my physician Dr Maher. The bipolar disorder was diagnosed, inconclusive as to whether the trial or abuse caused it', he sighs, 'I made mention of the ECT treatment',

'Yes', I bleat processing all he's saying trying to keep my emotions under control.

'It did not have the desired effect, memories of the abuse remained, the entire legal process vanished, Maher and I agreed it would be in Violet's best interest not to burden her with those facts', he sighs again deeply, 'also in her best interest we informed Holt sought treatment, to this day she believes he is alive and living in Liverpool, perhaps wrong on our part but such was her relief, peace of mind and rapid stabilising of her mental wellbeing I harbour no regrets for our deception'.

Realizing Ethan would go to any lengths to protect Vi my mind flashes the contents of the file in Christian's safe, 'information Christian's gathered...the man's death points to a cover up...implicating you...did you murder him', a frightened, wary and uncertain voice remotely rings in my ears.

'Not by my hand but one could argue I did', he murmurs, the cup in my hand crashes onto the grey flagstone tiled floor, backward steps I take and bump of the dresser, 'be at ease Anastasia, all I did was orchestrate the placing together of two likeminded individuals and let nature take its course', my head shakes in another quandary of confusion.

Walking away from the table creating more distant between us which makes me feel marginally safer, he folds his arms, leans his hip against the sink, crosses his legs and regards me closely, 'please allow me to explain', a quiet tone, unable to speak I nod.

'In my opinion Holt received a light sentence therefore I called in a favour from a man who shall remain nameless. At that time an ex security employee of mine, one David Hadley, was serving his sentence for the battery and sexual assault of a prostitute, the favour, have Hadley transferred to the prison Holt was beginning his. I spoke of nature taking its course, indeed it did, a confrontation whereby Hadley brought about Holt's demise by way of stabbing him, not once but twenty three times, weapon of choice, a spoon, the handle of which filed down to a sharpened point. Such was the rage of the attack Hadley is currently incarcerated in a private facility more suited to his psychotic requirements, at my expense, why my expense you may ask, to atone for my hand in the matter. With all that said Anastasia I hope you comprehend were my involvement made public not only I would be affected. Violet, our families of course, the unnamed man and his also Michelle, Millicent and Gabriel, Hadley is Millicent's father, do they require knowledge of my underhandedness, involved in investigations which no doubt would come about, I think not'.

_Oh my God_, taking it all in, an unwavering thought strikes, whether he did right or wrong he's now burdened with the responsibility of protecting so many people, quickly he strides to me, takes and holds my hands, 'Anastasia, you are in charge of the full facts, do with them as you may, please respond to the question I put to you regarding Christian, my concern for Violet is acute should he make mention of Holt'.

Everything about Christian comes out in a sobbing gush of five, ten minutes, I'm not sure, ending in the same way as with Vi, 'I love Christian unconditionally'.

'Anastasia', his hands in support never let go of mine, 'Christian is a good man indeed, all he suffered, overcame, shows he is strong as are you, let us go yes', his eyes show nothing but compassion, 'there, there', my hands are released, thumbs gently wipe away falling tears, 'a fortunate man he is to have and behold you, your loving nature is very much akin to my beloved's, we must away now'.

* * *

At least he has the decency to keep his back turned while I'm in a bath, of his making, as he did when he ordered me to tie up my hair and get into it, only briefly his eyes zoned in a my breast scar, 'you're blonde, Ethan's preference', he murmurs.

Staying silent, 'yeah fucking answer', he snaps.

'He doesn't have one Sir', I do in a low tone, _unlike you…brunette doppelgangers_.

'I've only Ana's written account, no photos to prove you're lying, I think brunettes, he's attracted to Ana isn't he', _the other way round Christian_, he doesn't say answer so I keep silent, 'I hear no water splashing, wash, you don't smell great', I do with nothing more than lukewarm water, 'answer my question', he adds in a ferocious snap.

'No Sir he's not', another low toned response, _oh God_, he's not calming down as I thought he would, _you keep calm Violet for the love of God_.

'She's beautiful', an indignant, insulted growl, his head turns, grey eyes like stormy seas pierce into mine, I bow my head fast, stare through the stilling bathwater at my knees, "_all is well, all is as it should be my love, my Lady Rochester, my angel_", Ethan's loving voice plays in my mind.

'Answer', his voice wafts in another snap.

'Yes Sir she is', tears burst, I can't take anymore, 'please Christian, I want to go home'.

'Oh Christ', tone alarmed, meekly I look up, his face is ashen, 'Violet I'm sorry', he rushes to the bath, crouches, his arms wrap round my shoulders, 'I'm sorry'.

'It's ok…I understand...Ana loves you…only you...forever', I sob against his linen shirted shoulder.

'I love her so much, Ana is my world, a world I never thought possible', his voice now croaky and weary.

'I know Christian…..I know you do', I cry harder for this man Ana said is fifty shades of fucked up.

Releasing me, he stares into my eyes, _shit…no…..no_, expression back to rage and malice, 'she's in Hillingham Hall with Ethan has been for the last thirty six hours', _what…oh…..it was her voice not altitude playing tricks after all_.

Dazed then beyond as none to gently he yanks me out of the bath keeping his eyes averted, 'dry, dress', icily he orders and strides into the bedroom.

Swiftly I do, empty retch, the smell from the pj's is intense, it clears the haze in my mind, _I trust you Ethan…..I trust you Ana_, meekly I walk into the bedroom, 'Christian', in agitation he's pacing in front of a window, 'Christian', I shout, he stops, looks at me, 'don't let your imagination run away with you, they're trustworthy, faithful, Ethan wouldn't do anything'.

'With his past and covering up for you, trustworthy is the last thing he is', he snaps, _what the fuck_, 'conveniently you don't remember do you', he's not making sense, _for fuck sake get out of here Violet_, I bolt for the door.

Nearing, it swings open missing my head by an inch, 'my love my love'.

'Ethan', I wail, gathered up and into his arms, 'what don't I remember...did I do something wrong'.

'No my love, there, there, what wrong could my angel have done', he coos, I cling to him.

* * *

'Christian', I fling my arms around him, 'are you ok', his expression the most distressed I've ever seen.

'Ana, Ana', he holds onto me for dear life, 'oh God, Ana'.

'All misunderstandings', I sob holding him tight.

'Christian', Ethan speaks in a calm low tone, 'Anastasia is correct, anon when the dust has settled as it were, you and I should converse man to man privately. On my word as a gentleman nothing untoward occurred between your wife and I and I harbour no ill intentions towards you'.

Christian breaks away from my arms, strides over to Ethan, Jason, Mr Holland and Mr Cleary burst into the room, 'stay back', Christian orders, arm outstretched. Jason does, Holland and Cleary move forward, Ethan gives one nod they move back, I run, stand by Christian's side and hold onto his arm, biceps ridged.

Being of the same height Christian glares into Ethan's eyes, his in return non hostile, 'your word as a gentleman, who besides you would stand by that', Christian states vengefully angrily.

'Perhaps not many', now Ethan's eyes shift to hostility, his hold of Vi tightens protectively, mine of Christian does, 'may I suggest neutral ground, where I say again we should converse privately. I would not wish to sully yours and your wife's abode with your blood spattered all over the walls for your ill treatment of Violet, you Sir are no gentleman'.

'Oh for fuck sake…enough…enough', Vi cries, her arm reaches out, a small hand strokes Christian's cheek, 'Christian you did me no wrong...Ethan he didn't', she kisses Ethan's bruised cheek, reaches again, strokes mine, 'Ana remember I said you and me are in the same boat paddling up stream'.

'Yes Vi I do, I didn't it say it at the time, I will now', stroking Christian's cheek staring into his eyes, 'Grey, two steps forward fifty back. I love you, nothing happened between Ethan and me', stormy grey eyes calm, glancing, flickering dark brown ones do also.

'Ana, I've got an idea', Vi smiles the scar at the corner of mouth stretches.

'You do Vi', I smile sliding an arm around Christian's waist, he arms securely wrap around mine.

'Yeah, while the high flying business geniuses hash things out, having the bromance they should've had in the first place', a snort from Christian and Ethan interrupts her.

'For goodness sake Christian Ethan, get over yourselves', I snap, Vi and I giggle, 'what's the plan Vi'.

Taking her hand, our fingers entwine, 'you and me, well away from them when they do, my suggestion a Spa weekend'.

'My kind of plan Vi, I'm there', we grin.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Seated on a spacious comfortable sun lounger, the infinity pool of the magnificent Nizuc Resort & Spa in Cancun stretches out before me and seems to meet the pristine sand and ocean beyond. Reclining, briefly I glance at Sawyer stationed at a discreet unobtrusive distance and begin reading a manuscript while waiting for Vi, she's having one of the spa's signature treatments done. Too jetlagged from the late flight last night I opted for a manicure, _after lunch I'll indulge_.

Glancing at Sawyer again, his eyes continually scanning the vicinity and other guests, I can't help smiling, it took some persuading, or badgering to be more precise to get Christian to reinstate him and Prescott, she's currently stationed in Grey House, _I'm glad they're back but the flip side their now doubly alert and cautious_.

Unable to concentrate on the manuscript, I set it aside, my mind flits back over the last month, the first week was one I never wish to re-live but with Dr Flynn's expert help Christian and I took the fraught difficult path of picking up the pieces after events in Hillingham.

Staring at the ocean, pride surges through me, we didn't allow the momentous and joyous move into our new home on Valentine's Day to detract from following Dr Flynn's advice of simply talking and more importantly listening to each other. 'We sure did John', absently I murmur rapidly recounting several intense in-depth conversations about, "_Hillingham-Gate_", Christian and I bared our souls, divulged all in honesty and forgave each other without reservation.

Attention's caught by Vi wearing the cutest pair of girl boardshorts and a spaghetti strapped pale pink tank top making her way towards the loungers in a daze for some reason, her SD, Miss Lane is following at a respectful but watchful distance, I wave, Vi sees me and smiles.

Patting the lounger next to me, 'how was it', I ask as she flings her beach bag to the end and flops down.

'Weird', she says, 'good weird, I can't feel my body, I went to the suite to change afterwards, I swear I floated all the way'.

Stifling laughter, _she does seem out of it_, 'did you have Champagne during the treatment'?

'No', shaking her head she proffers her arm, 'smell me, cacao oil the woman said, gift from the Mayan gods, bloody hell I'm a floating bar of chocolate', sniffing, she does, I laugh, she reclines and drapes her arm over her face.

Although the sun's not scorching, a balmy twenty three degrees under the parasol's shade with a gentle tropical breeze blowing, from my beach bag I extract a tube of sun screen and proceed to top up my already protected exposed skin. I love this particular outrageously expensive teeny tiny bikini, "_if Christian were here he wouldn't approve_", the harpy clad from neck to thigh in Victorian swimwear reminds, inwardly scoffing mentally I give her the finger, Christian, due to work commitments isn't arriving until tomorrow morning, nor is Ethan.

Till then, before, "_The-Monumental-Bromance_", on neutral ground gets underway, we fully intend enjoying our girlie spa time, we certainly deserve it. Christian once back in Seattle didn't want to know or hear about it, "_the arrogant fuck can go to hell_", he said, Ethan retracted his offer to talk to Christian, "_the obstinate prick is not worth my breath_", Vi told me he said, so we worked hard over the last couple of weeks, everything from cajoling to insistent ordering to make it happen.

Smiling at how Cancun was chosen as neutral ground, Vi and I were chatting on our cells last week, I asked if she had any ideas of where to go, "_no clue_" she said then added, "_hang on_", I heard an odd whirring sound in the background. A while later, "_Cancun_", she announced laughingly and explained she did the eyes closed spinning and stopping the globe with your finger trick.

In a fit of laughter I said, "_thank God somewhere hot, an expedition to the North Pole wouldn't be appealing, not a spa in sight, although drafting in Santa Claus as mediator could've been helpful_", we laughed for a solid five minutes.

Sun screen job done, 'Vi dinner this evening, what about a restaurant in Cancun, I'm sure the concierge will be able to recommend one', wiping my hands with my towel, her expression behind her arm mischievous and amused.

'I was ordered not to leave the confines of the hotel', her lips spread to a grin, 'my love, it would not sit well were I not to have your assurance regarding that particular issue', irreverently she mocks Ethan's accent, I clench my stomach in laughter, 'as you can imagine Ana, what a total load of flaming bollix was going through my head, so I say, you're on, to Cancun this evening we go, SD in tow to be on safe side'.

Hi-fiving we settle down to the job of relaxing, 'talking about being ordered not to do something', I murmur, 'Christian forbade me to swim in the ocean, Ana baby, pool only, riptides, he got a disbelieving eye roll, swarms of jelly fish quickly he added to instil fear'.

Giggles waft, simultaneously we turn our heads, look at each other and smile, 'jelly fish, whatever next, the Lough Ness Monster migrated, we should give warning to those folk frolicking in the waves', we burst out laughing, a thoughtful expression crosses her angelic face, 'Ana, you and me are lovingly, willingly and knowingly married to a pair of loving overprotective controlling loopers. We've got our paddles, upstream we go all the way loving them until the preverbal death do us part, simple as that at the end of the day, isn't it'.

My smile broadens, Vi's ability of expressing things peculiarly fills me with warmth, gladly I hold and protect knowledge of her she doesn't possess of herself, 'yes Vi, loving them all the way as we journey along', gleefully she nods.

* * *

'Crap', muttering in annoyance after finding no strapless bra for beneath the new halter neck summer dress I bought in Debenhams last week in Brompton, 'oh well, the puppies will bounce away to my embarrassment', I tie in a tight knot the lengths of floral material at the nape of my neck.

_Oh_, my reflection in the mirror shows by the thorough hoisting up the hemline's arseways and shorter than it should be, I smile, the concierge assured Ana the restaurant is tucked away in a quiet side street of downtown Cancun so I don't give a flying fuck I look a mess. L'escargot it's called and we plan to stuff our faces, we skipped lunch to enable said stuffing, Ana came back to her lounger after a spa treatment in a total daze smelling of chocolate, "_floating Vi, now I know what you meant_", she said and conked out.

In artificial plastic daisy adorned flip-flops I skip from the bathroom into the bedroom of the very modern swish suite, look about for my beach bag, _on the bed where you left it Violet_, I see it, skip that way and stop sensing a presence. Eyes dart to the private balcony, _Lord above_, Ethan, only the back of his raven black haired head, naked shoulders and arms visible in the plunge pool.

Incensed I charge out there and loom over him, 'what the fuck are you doing here Rochester, until tomorrow morning I mean, like you said'.

'My love', his eyes gleam.

'Don't you my love me', snappily I nip in the bud full luscious lips about to say more and emphatically tell my pelvis and everything else that wants to ride him senseless to get a grip, 'well you're here now, fuck all I can do about it. Ana and me are going out to dinner, beyond the hotel...so you can remain in there until you prune…I'll see you later...Pam, I mean Miss lane will be with us and Mr Sawyer, marriage made in heaven, they've been giving each other the eye'.

Not successful in preventing my mouth from gaping open as Ethan in all his pierced nipple tattooed back naked glory comes out the plunge pool, walks dripping wet and stands before me, 'my Lady', my hands are held, 'other marriages made with heaven's blessing are of no concern to me. Ours however is, humbly I ask, kiss me', _I could spend all day long kissing you Ethan_.

Lips and mouths melt together, a sweet tasting tongue tips and licks mine, _oh boy_, an arousal against my lower tummy prevails and is urgent, 'I've only time for a quickie', I gasp into his mouth, he draws back, eyes like swirling dark coffee sear through mine, 'ummm...a quickie', a smile parts those lips to die for, 'not my forte but I shall endeavour to fulfil your request, raise your dress my Lady'.

* * *

Suspecting Vi's forgotten we agreed to meet in the hotel's main bar, I tell Sawyer to wait in the lobby and trundle my way uncomfortably in a new pair of high heeled strappy sandals to her suite. Unfortunately the private villas were all booked so wisely we reserved suites at opposite ends of the hotel should "_The-Monumental-Bromance_" go askew.

Reaching her door I give a loud knock, no answer by the third, 'she must have fallen asleep, residual effects of Cacao oil', I giggle, try the handle, unlocked, opening the door I stride in.

'Vi', I call, look about the lounge area, bedroom and balcony, _no sign of her_, quietly laughing, Vi's the most untidy person I've ever met, her possessions, clothes and flip-flops are strewn about, the contents of three handbags are scattered all over the bed.

Muffled noises I hear coming from the bathroom, about to go and knock on the door it swings open, flabbergasted, Ethan stark naked saunters into the room, sees me, smirks and without a trace of embarrassment continues towards the bed.

Red faced, glued to the spot, I clap hands over my eyes and incoherently mumble an apology, 'maybe not your forte Rochester but as quickies go I'll have to give you a medal', peeping, Vi's skipping into the room, sees me and bursts out laughing, 'oh God…sorry but this is hilarious…Ethan cover your bits and bobs for Pete's sake', distinctly I hear him laughing.

Too embarrassed to speak, she's a blur dashing back into the bathroom, comes back out with a towel and throws it towards the bed, 'are you ok', she pats my shoulder, I nod, 'it's ok he's descent now'. Blithering another apology, 'these things happen', she says holding in more laughter then sudden shock strikes her face, 'oh holy fuck'.

'Would you care to join us Mr Grey', _what_, Ethan's tone highly amused, I turn round, Christian's standing on the threshold of the door I left open expression unreadable.

'What are you doing here...this is not what you think Christian', blurts in panic, to my amazement he bursts out laughing and casually walks in, I run to him and I'm enveloped in his arms.

'Hi Violet, Ethan', he says jovially, 'a drink would nice'.

'Indeed Christian a Scotch would go down well', Ethan's tone still amused, 'as we have disrupted our wives, girl time, shall we say, to atone I suggest we escort them to dinner, what say you'.

Christian's grin widens, grey eyes sparkle with hilarity, 'gut tells me Ethan dinner to atone won't cut it but it's a start, I foresee you and I creating a substantial dent in our wallets', I slap his shoulder playfully, Vi giggles.

'I concur Christian', Ethan gets up from the bed, secures further the towel around his waist, strides over to us, Vi's quickly by his side, 'utilising Violet's word, let the bromance begin', he offers his hand to Christian.

Firmly they shake hands, 'sure but not over dinner', Christian smiles then looks at Vi, 'thanks a lot for that word, so manly', she and I giggle, 'oh God I'm tearing up, I'll have to go on Oprah', he adds, we all laugh and I'm so happy to see him fondly knuckling her forehead.

* * *

Well off the tourist trail, the taxi driver, we thought going by local taxi would be the best option, found the restaurant hard to find. Ana and I were no help, not a word of Spanish other than hola and gracias between us, Ethan's fluent but managed to confuse the poor man, in the end Christian used his mobile and Google mapped it.

And what a hidden gem it is, classic French cuisine, ambiance, cosy, warm and romantic, as I was nearly fainting from hunger I scoffed my chateaubriand with béarnaise sauce in double quick time, now I'm greedily thinking about dessert impatiently waiting for Ethan, Ana and Christian to finish their mains of duck breast with caramelized apples.

We're on our second bottle of Malbec and there's been no tension, in fact we've chatted akin to regular friends having a nice night out, with Ninja skill I swipe a forkful of buttered potatoes from Ethan's plate, 'good grief Violet', he grins, 'have a care, I am rather famished, order second helpings'.

'No too much bother', I shove the spuds into my mouth.

Ethan and Christian resume their conversation which over the course of the last ten minutes or so drifted to business, Ana giggles catching me eye rolling in annoyance, I smile and slurp my wine, 'you never said Vi what you guys did for Valentine's'.

Briefly Ethan eyes me in amusement and under the table seductively pinches the side of my thigh, 'emmm', curbing a high pitched tone and flashbacks of the three hour kinkyarsed shagfest, 'Ethan made me brekkie in bed, eggs Benedict, my favourite and gave me a lovely present, two donkeys, Phil and Ned, we're up to twenty in the sanctuary'.

'Sounds great', she grins knowingly, I mirror, 'oh, I've got such a lame one for you, what did one ocean say to the other ocean'?

Giggling I shrug my shoulders indicating no clue, 'nothing, they just waved', she giggles out the punchline.

'Oh baby', grinning Christian lovingly tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear, 'beyond lame Ana', they laugh.

Grinning, 'did you hear about the trouble a funeral director had with a guy who died of a Viagra overdose'?

'No, no, absolutely not', playfully Ethan tries to cover my mouth with his hand, 'Anastasia what have you started', she and Christian can't stop laughing, Christian gestures to spit it out, 'he couldn't close the lid of casket', Ethan and I chorus in unison.

* * *

Joining Christian in the balcony's plunge pool, 'you're drunk baby', he murmurs, I am but don't care, tonight was one of the best evenings out and I believe bridges were mended. It's a glorious balmy night and I'm horny as hell.

Straddling him, I wrap my arms around his neck, 'Grey, plunge pool shagging, let's go', his eyebrow arches in amusement, 'yes, Vi's terminology rubbed off, both ways, she's saying jeez and whoa'.

'I'll oblige', he grins in that way and everything south of my waist tightens in delicious anticipation.

Lovemaking went from the plunge pool to the bed, entwined in each others arms blissfully sated, 'thanks Christian', I murmur tiredly, dozily.

'For what Ana', his voice so quiet, tone so tender it lulls.

'For what you're going to do tomorrow, you've no idea how much it means to me, Vi's my friend and will always be in my life, things would be so much easier if you and Ethan could get along', solemnly I express my feelings.

Holding me tighter, softly he kisses my forehead, 'I can see the logic in that Ana but I can't promise that's going to happen', _one great evening out doesn't mend bridges after all_.

Snuggling my head against his neck, I kiss his jaw, 'all I ask is you try Christian'.

'Ok', he murmurs, 'now sleep baby'. Snuggling closer, I close my eyes and sleep with very little difficulty takes me.

* * *

Rummaging in my beach bag for a packet of Polo mints, I pop one into my mouth, 'do you want one', I wave the packet.

'No thanks', she croaks.

'That bad', I try not to laugh, for once I'd the good sense to drink a bottle of mineral water and down two painkillers before going to bed last night.

'There's a construction worker in my head using a pneumatic drill', another croak, rummaging in my bag again I haul out a box of Panadol and toss it to her, 'thanks', she smiles then flinches in pain, 'I'm never drinking again'.

Quietly I laugh, 'famous last words', looking about the pool area for a waiter, a tanned, sun bleached haired one spots me, makes his way over to where Ana and I are plonked on the same sun loungers as yesterday, 'hola', I greet, he nods, 'can we have two orange juices'.

'Cranberry', Ana interrupts in a groan, _bloody hell she does look worse for wear_.

'One orange one cranberry, por favor', miraculously I remembered please in Spanish and grin proudly the guy's trying not to laugh,_ oh…maybe I pronounced it wrong_.

'You're Irish', he says, by his accent so is he, 'gap year from college, seeing a bit of the world, sunnier climes the weather at home is pure shite'.

'Well I wouldn't argue on that one', I laugh.

'Wouldn't your friend there be better off with the hair of dog', cheekily he suggests.

'One orange one cranberry juice if you don't mind', haughtily I huff, a cheeky wink and off he goes way too amused, 'flaming smartarse', I mutter under my breath.

'Vi', she's trying not to laugh and points at my bikini top, I look down, to my horror my nipple's on full display, adjusting the material fast, kicking myself mentally for wearing a bikini, _Murphy's fucking law any time I do_, 'sorry Vi I only just noticed'.

'Don't worry about it, not the first time', to rid embarrassment I tell her the story of losing bikini bottoms in Cam and Geoff's pool in their mansion in the Hamptons which is embarrassing but totally hilarious.

'So the pool had to be drained to find them', her expression unbelieving.

'Yeah but not to find them, the bloody things got sucked into a filter, caused a whole pile of damage, poor Cam and Geoff were without a pool for one of the hottest weekends on record, they still love me though', I smile.

* * *

Reaching across I pat her hand, 'course they do Vi', painfully I smile, pneumatic drill man is pounding not only me but the harpy, she still manages to tut tut me, 'oh cheeky Irish guy is coming'.

'Here we are ladies, one cranberry one orange juice', oozing smarminess he serves the drinks, 'what room will I tab these to', the suite's number vacated my brain, I look at Vi, her expression, I'm in the same boat, we break into a fit of giggles, 'some night I'd say ye had, rocking Cancun, a name will do'.

Recovering, 'Grey', I inform.

'Right you are, enjoy', he smirks turns on his heel and strides away.

'Jeez what are we like', Vi exclaims.

'I'm beginning to wonder', I smile.

Glugging down half the juice with two painkillers, I hand Vi the box, check my watch and reality hits, 'Vi it's ten after eleven, Christian and Ethan are ten minutes in, I'm anxious are you'?

Following her line of vision to where Jason, Sawyer, Miss Lane and Mr Cleary are grouped together at the far end of the poolside's lush garden, 'when I see them make a dash into the hotel accompanied by a troop of UN peacekeepers then I'll worry'.

She looks at me, smiles, 'Ana, we should give Ethan and Christian the benefit of the doubt, I'm not the betting sort but I'd say within the next ten minutes they'll have cut to the chase and no matter what the outcome, bromance or not, they'll leave each other in peace'.

Perhaps naïve but her sentiment gives me hope, 'no matter the outcome Vi, you and me, forever friends', my eyes mist, we reach across, hold hands, our finger entwine as they did in Manor house.

'Yeah', her eyes mist, 'you're my female half shell Ana'.

'I don't know what you mean Vi', I hold back a sob.

'You're the rare person you meet in life who you connect profoundly with, two halves of a shell', our tears spill, I'm off the lounger and onto hers we hug and hold one another until sobs subside.

'I love you Vi', I murmur against her ear.

'I love you Ana', she murmurs against mine.

* * *

Ten minutes came and went, I stop myself from anxiously and continuously checking my watch, Vi I sense is now as anxious, she ate mint after mint akin to a chain smoker and has moved onto of all things a packet of cookies, 'have a custard cream', she says, 'I brought them from home', I do and munch it quickly. Despite nerves tangling I smile at the fact she's not untidy but has a very sweet tooth, two desserts of crème brulee she devoured last night at dinner.

'Oh I forgot to tell you Ana', she grins with her mouth full, 'I've started piano lessons in earnest, Mrs', abruptly her eyes dart to the left, mine do, Ethan, wearing nothing but plain black boardshorts and black leather flip-flops, red stoned nipple piercings glinting in the sun, is casually walking up to the cheeky Irish waiter, they talk, then swiftly Ethan approaches the loungers, _where's Christian?_

Ethan eyes the low lying table between the loungers, 'quite the teddy bear's picnic', he grins, sits on the edge of Vi's lounger and proceeds to eat a cookie. Before either Vi or I open our mouths our eyes are drawn to Christian from the opposite direction swiftly making his way, _oh boy_, he looks so sexy wearing pale grey swim shorts, a white linen shirt unbuttoned as far as his collarbones and aviator sun glasses perched on his head.

'Did you order Ethan', he asks, smiles at me, scoots me over and sits on the lounger.

'Indeed', Ethan grins, Vi and I eye each other quizzically.

'What are these', Christian asks.

'Violet's stash of custard creams', Ethan informs, my mouth gapes open as Christian helps himself to one, he never eats cookies, pancakes at IHOP yes but never cookies, _what's going on_, I can't judge the atmosphere between them or think of anything to say, I eye Vi again, she shrugs her shoulders, expression bemused.

'You know what Ana', she pipes up.

'What Vi', I ask marginally wary of what she'll say, Christian and Ethan are onto their second cookie.

'I don't think it makes any sense ignoring the huge pink elephant causing havoc in the infinity pool, do you', she smiles, again in her peculiar way she cuts to the chase.

'Makes no sense', I smile, tousle Christian's hair, 'come on then Grey, you to Ethan, Vi and I want to know the outcome'.

'Do the honours Christian', Ethan replies nonchalantly, Vi squiggles to make room on the lounger as he reclines, his arm goes about her shoulders, she snuggles against him.

Breath catches in the back of my throat as Christian does the same, discreetly I slip my hand under his shirt and rest it his happy trail, 'Ethan and I are going to do business, we discovered individually we've been working on a mutual project, two heads are better than one, we foresee it's fruition successful'.

Audibly I groan in tandem with Vi, Christian and Ethan laugh, 'for goodness sake, that doesn't answer mine and Vi's question Christian', I snap.

'Anastasia', Ethan drawls, Christian nuzzles my ear, 'what shall be laid before my love and you will explain further'.

'Oh for fuck sake Rochester, it's worse you're getting speaking in riddles', Vi huffs in exasperation, I double take, he makes a face at her, consisting of eyes turned inwards and sticking out his tongue, she laughs.

'Ethan', Christian laughs, runs one finger down my arm making me shiver too deliciously, cheeks flush, 'a lifetime of this before us', I glare at him, he pecks my nose.

'One could not ask for more', Ethan smiles, about to retort I'm distracted by cheeky Irish waiter appearing carrying a tray laden with flutes and a bottle of Cristal wedged into a silver ice bucket.

Warily he looks at Christian, wisely keeps his smarmy mouth shut, manages to make room on the low lying table and places the tray on it, 'anything else Mr Rochester', he asks even more warily looking at Ethan.

'No thank you', Ethan's eyes narrow, Vi red faced behind his shoulder checks her bikini top, cheeky waiter hastily retreats.

'What are celebrating', in a whisper I ask into Christian's ear, he turns his head and winks then looks to Ethan smiling cuddling Vi, 'Ethan he's have arrived', _who?_

Vi and I startled expressions see a suited official looking man approaching, two slim black boxes in hand, once he comes to and stands before the loungers without a word places them on the very little room on the table, briefly nods and leaves.

'Excellent Christian', Ethan announces, Christian nods, unceremoniously they leave us, check the boxes, hand one to each other, Ethan comes and sits at the end of my lounger, Christian goes and sits on the end of Vi's.

Vi and I look to each other nervously then back to the men on our respective loungers, 'no one could rehearse this Ethan', Christian smiles at me.

'Indeed', Ethan smiles at Vi, 'we should therefore proceed'.

'Who first', Christian's eyes don't leave mine or mine his.

Ethan laughs eyes not leaving Vi's, 'with your permission Christian shall I'.

'You got it', Christian smiles, Ethan's eyes leave Vi's and sear into mine, a slim black box is offered. Peripheral vision sees Christian giving a nod, I take it, 'Anastasia', Ethan's quiet reverent voice speaks, 'beheld in this box is my choice for you, a token to assure all is well and will be. Christian's and my paths are no longer fraught, open your gift', I do.

A single strand of pearls with a charm of an open book in platinum, speechless I can only nod, look to Christian and my kindred spirit, tears spill, they're looking at me, 'Ana baby, pearls of wisdom beyond your years', Christian murmurs, his eyes go to Vi, hers sparkle like the vibrant sea beyond.

'To you Violet', Christian hands her the remaining black box, her cheeks flush red, 'a token to convey sincerely you have nothing to worry about ok, Ethan and I will get on fine, more importantly is you and my Ana remain as you are, open your gift'.

Opening the box her tears spill, 'oh Ana look', she sobs, I do at a small platinum brooch depicting an angel holding in her hands a single pearl, _oh Mr Grey how wonderful you are_.

The End


End file.
